Picca
I’m not a heart person. Beef heart, that is. I’ve tasted it a few times, and it’s always something I’m happy to have tried but for which I never feel the need to go back. At Picca, Ricardo Zarate’s corazón has changed all of that.
At this stylish new Peruvian restaurant, the little morsels of meat are skewered, cooked over an open flame, and smothered in a fiery rocoto sauce—a traditional accompaniment made with South American red chiles that adds just the right amount of heat. The chunks are tender with a little chew, as full of meaty flavor as a good steak. I’m a changed woman: Now it’s a must-have on any visit.
The corazón—as well as other skewered meats, seafood and vegetables—falls under anticuchos, one of five sections (and my favorite) of a fairly expansive menu. Zarate calls it “cantina” food—ceviches and stews and sushi meant to be shared tapas-style. It fits the space, which is as textured as the Andean villages painted on the walls: high and low natural wood tables on one side of the room, communal tables on the other, and a mezzanine with a hidden lounge upstairs. The fishbowl kitchen centers it all, filled with chefs so intently focused, they barely have time to look up from their grills and plates.
Picca is on the second floor of what used to be Test Kitchen, now Sotto, just a hop and a skip from Century City. Honestly, you can’t miss it—outside, the name is scrawled in giant orange and white letters across the red brick wall, a welcome change from the trend of nonexistent restaurant signage.
You’ll see a lot of Japanese influences in Peruvian cuisine, but there are still plenty of South American ingredients I wasn’t too familiar with on the menu. Those rocoto peppers show up in many dishes, as does aji amarillo, a yellow chile pepper, and things like huacatay, Peruvian black mint. Definitely not your garden-variety herbs and spices. Luckily our servers, well-trained and patient, were capable of explaining everything with aplomb.
After the requisite directives on how to read the menu—how many plates to order per person, how the food will come out of the kitchen, etc.—we had a ball digging through it. No matter how you order, the kitchen sends out whatever is ready first. This could mean the chicharrón de pollo, the best little chicken nuggets I’ve ever tasted, will come out before a parade of ceviches, sushi and stews. That’s not a bad thing, per se, but since so many similar flavors are used throughout the menu, they can start to taste repetitive.
But do order something from every category (down to the últimas, or desserts). The sushi is unexpected. Instead of rice, chopped yellowtail with wasabi tobiko, or shrimp dotted with yuzo kosho-spiked guacamole, arrives atop little squares of mashed potato. Most taste citrusy with a little spice, like little mounds of ceviche on a yellow pillow. Order too many, and the flavors—or fish—won’t be too discernable. One or two do the trick.
Speaking of ceviche, my favorite is the crocante, a pile of halibut cubes in a zippy sauce topped with crispy fried calamari. The textures and flavors are fantastic. Because we sat at the marble bar in front of the kitchen, we watched one chef make one dish over and over—a swish of miso sauce, several slices of raw ahi tuna, a few carefully placed garlic chips—so we had to order it. It’s one of the best dishes we tried.
Still, I was drawn to the grill more than anything. In addition to the corazón, the beef filet with sea urchin butter is ridiculously good. Scallops with perfect little dollops of a creamy aji amarillo aioli are sweet and spicy. Even the charred tomatoes with strands of cool burrata cheese and black mint pesto (Zarate’s ode to a Caprese, perhaps?) somehow taste unique.
If you’re a fan of South American spirits or want to learn about them, this is the place. Pisco, rum, tequila, cachaça and mezcal are all you’ll find in the cocktails, which were developed by Julian Cox (Angeleno’s 2011 Best New Mixologist award winner for his work at Playa). I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper pisco sour in this town, and that’s happily been remedied.
Anticipation is an understatement when talking about Picca’s debut. Zarate climbed the food chain after adventurous diners discovered Mo-Chica, his small food stand at the Mercado La Paloma near USC. He isn’t single-handedly bringing a taste of Peru to L.A., but he is certainly doing the most to push it into the spotlight. Soon he’ll have a third restaurant, another Mo-Chica downtown, where he’ll serve more traditional dishes. If not yet, we’ll all be fluent in Peruvian cuisine soon enough.
About The Name
The word “picca” means “to nibble,” a loose reference to the tapas-style cantina cuisine that Zarate loves in his native Peru.