It was news to me that Asian flavors occasionally inform Peruvian cuisineโ€”but ever since Andy Rooney died, I take my facts where I can get them. In this case, it was at the restaurant Las Primas Peruvian Kitchen, a polished, casual eatery in a rectilinear but welcoming new space on North Williams. The won ton skins on the menu prompted a guarded probing of the cashierโ€”guarded because I was fearful that nearby Chef Catalina Acuรฑa, hair up and buttoned down in her spotless professional whites, would overhear the alarming breadth of my ignorance and wonder when I was going to start ordering Crunchwrap Supremes.

Indeed, subtly integrated hints of China can be found on Las Primas’ diverse menu of sandwiches and sides. In a nationally celebrated Chinese-Peruvian fusion cuisine known as chifa, soy sauce-marinated meats often feature in aromatic stir-fries, and the emblematic roasted pollo a la brasa takes its character from the same. Aside from chifa inflections, other defining characteristics of Ms. Acuรฑa’s fully realized dishes are a quiet but steady spice that never crescendos, boldly seasoned meats brightened with fresh, cool, familiar vegetables, and an appearance of slapdash bounty that is designed well enough to eat cleanly. It is an approachable encapsulation of a playful cuisine, true to itself while highly accessible to an unfamiliar palate.

Indispensable on the appetizer menu are the alitas, soy-marinated chicken wings roasted until golden and barbecue-tender, and dressed with the ubiquitous aji de mesa, a mild chile sauce. Thin, light blonde papas fritas, somewhere between a shoestring and a fast food french fry, are worth ordering on their own despite their inclusion with all sandwiches. The tequeรฑos, won ton skins filled with a light queso fresco and deep-fried, are served with a cool guacamole-like crema de palta, but for all their novelty they are an unremarkable flat note on an otherwise robust roster.

Noteworthy in all the sandwiches is a custom roll that should be the federally mandated standard, regardless of nationality. Strong and chewy yet tender and light, with a thick, perfectly baked crust for which a pizzaiolo napoletano would give his wooden hand, they are an oven-scorched plinth for the hearty ingredients within. Created in exacting consultancy with Fleur de Lis Bakery, they are delivered fresh daily, and this investment is beautifully apparent.

Upon this worthy base are piled a wide variety of grilled, stir-fried, and roasted meats. The lomo saltadoโ€”an exemplary chifa stir-fry of springy, delicate, soy-marinated sirloin and onionsโ€”is topped with the papas and comes to the table bursting from its bread, but eats neatly. Vying for top spot with the lomo is the choripan, a sandwich of house-made, gently spicy chorizo and papitas (here, somewhere between a shoestring fry and a potato chip). The pan-roasted tilapia in the refreshing pescado a la plancha is surprisingly flavorful for this typically blank little fish, and the cool lettuce, onion, and crema de aji outfit it completely.

Perfectly serviceable sides round out the menu. The sopa del momento, which on our visits was a bacon and pinto bean soup in a light, tomato-sweetened brown broth, is generous, healthful, and well priced at $5. Peruvian cornโ€”a hominy-size, potato-like kernelโ€”adds interest to the creamy, queso fresco- and avocado-fortified ensalada delicia. A soft portobello empanada, though enjoyed by some, seemed to want to please all manner of restricted diets and ended up tasting like a steamed Cole Haan. This was made up for by the churro, a crisp funnel cake dusted with a cinnamon-coconut sugar, which revealed a game-changing tunnel of goat’s milk caramel.

The unusual Inca Kola, which tastes of pink bubble gum and cream soda, is a palate-washing Peruvian import that complements the rich, lingering food. For cocktails, try the Inca Borracho, a deceptively light, tightly focused rum and Inca Kola punch.

After departing one evening, a fellow diner succinctly described Las Primas as, “modest ambitions, fresh ingredients, and well-executed dishes.” Here’s my attempt at an equally helpful summary: choripan, alitas, and rum punches on an open tab.

Open Tuesday-Sunday, 11 am to 9 pm. Immaculate, spacious, and family friendly. Sandwiches $8.50, cocktails $5-6.50, and beer and wine.

Las Primas Peruvian Kitchen

3971 N Williams
Lasprimaskitchen.com
206-5790

13 replies on “Polished Peruvian”

  1. Can someone translate this sentence into English for me: “It is an approachable encapsulation of a playful cuisine, true to itself while highly accessible to an unfamiliar palate.”

  2. I enjoyed this review and it was far more focused. It may bore you to do these reviews in this manner Chris but many of us appreciate it. Thank you.

  3. @3: The menu gives a representative overview of what the cuisine is all about in a way that’s authentic yet also easy to appreciate for the uninitiated?

    I understood what people were criticizing with the earlier “he strode with weary portent” kind of writing, but I don’t really see many big words or egregious thesaurus use here.

  4. @5: I’m glad that there are fewer purple patches, but I still find many of the sentences impenetrable and difficult to unpack. I’m not sure I understand why “approachable” has to be reinforced by “accessible,” and then further strengthened by “unfamiliar palate.” Doesn’t approachable in this context already mean accessible to an unfamiliar palate? I’m only suggesting that the style of these reviews could be pared down even further. I understand the impulse to write with Ciceronian flourish, but that probably needs to be reeled in for a restaurant review.

  5. Preferances for how you might like your food reviews to read aside… I have eaten at this establishment and found the dishes to be rather bland and all together underwhelming while generally overpriced. But hey, it’s in this trendy new stretch of Williams so maybe they’ll do alright.

  6. trex provides the only useful comment so far.

    Publius Ovidius Naso, if you’re not sure you understand “why ‘ approachable’ has to be reinforced by ‘accessible'”– you’re no Ovid.

  7. Look everybody! I’m that dude who has nothing better to do than criticize possibly overwritten restaurant reviews. Wait, I’m actually the dude who has nothing better to do then criticize other people’s comments about mildly overwritten restaurant reviews. No need to point out the circular firing squad nature of this post – that was the point. Actually, I forgot the point, was there one? Insert snarky comment about pathetic Portlandlers [here]. Please just don’t use ‘douche’ or ‘tard’ in any form, because someone might murder you for offending a theoretical person’s sensibilities.

  8. At Onstad’s funeral, half of the people will be skewering his nonsensical rhetoric, half will be defending it, and the other half will be pointing out that he managed to tone it down a bit after too many of the first half erupted in indignation over it… And therein will lie his legacy: That he managed to drive more people crazy than the rest of us combined. He’s laughing at us from the grave, and he’s not even dead yet…

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