Where Peruvian Passion failed to meet with Asian
In the heart of Marylebone, Pachamama takes a wrong swing at a Peruvian-Asian fusion extravaganza, and let me tell you, it’s more of a culinary faceplant than a spectacle. My recent experience at this place left me scratching my head and not in a good way.
The food was like a sad attempt at flavor, especially when it comes to spices and sauces – they managed to butcher both the rich traditions of Peru and the delicate subtleties of Asian cuisine. It’s a sin – a sin against good taste and a reminder to never trust the hype.
Save your taste buds from this disaster zone.
The best surprise was that the food looked – and, crucially, tasted – just as good as the crowd. Modish (but never wacky) Peruvian plates combined finesse and flavour with aplomb. All hail Pachamama! we say.
— TIME OUT
If this is what Timeout recommends, I might as well stop taking their advice and spare myself from future flavor disappointments. Pachamama, you’re a timeout from good taste that I won’t soon forget.
Ambience:
First, you practically need a map to find the entrance. Dark street, a small sign, and a tiny door leading you downstairs.
Once you inside a dining room, a nice open kitchen and a lovely bar in the middle will welcome you. Two areas for you to choose from – one for your intimate connections or the other for lively revelry where you can drown your sorrows in their lackluster cuisine. The Peruvian style decor; it sets the mood alright.
Service:
The staffs were kind and polite, guiding me through the menu with good energy. Staff’s kindness should be one the highlights, because you know you’re in for a treat, right?
Drinks:
The Pisco Sour was actually tasty, and let’s not forget the extensive wine options. Because when the food disappoints, drown your sorrows in a sea of wine choices – a tactic even the most desperate diners have adopted.
Oh, and they gave me a free shot after dinner. I appreciate their concern for me.
Price: ££
Portions were overall small, and let’s not forget the quality for the price– I was left wondering if they accidentally took a masterclass from the wrong chef.
What I Ordered:
Snow Crab Croquetas
Biting into the croqueta revealed a delightful contrast between the crisp exterior and the velvety smoothness of the filling.
However, the overwhelming spice robbed the poor crab of its chance to shine, leaving me questioning if they even knew what natural flavors were.
Tequeños
The exterior of their dish had the audacity to call itself ‘wonton.’ It was more like a misguided attempt at wrapping disappointment in a thick, flavorless cloak. Biting into it was like entering a gooey abyss, and the promised warmth was nowhere to be found – maybe lost in the thick, uninspiring facade.
Sure, the ají honey delivered a sweet kick, but the richness of the cheese, or lack thereof, left me yearning for something more. Pachamama, where even the honey can’t sweeten the deal of a culinary letdown.
*Black Cod Aguadito
A dish managed to shine – a rare glimmer of hope. The black cod, in all its glory, was actually tasty. A moment of shock, I know. Someone in that kitchen decided to play chef for a minute, and it almost worked.
The marriage of aji miso and black cod was hailed as if they unearthed the secret to culinary enlightenment. The taste reminded me of one Japanese dish – Saikyo Yaki.
Salt & Pepper Pork Ribs
The pork managed to retain some juiciness from the fat, and they even boasted about crispy skin – as if that’s some kind of culinary achievement.
However, the cumin salt decided to drag this dish down on the flavor profile. The sweetness and richness made it a real heavyweight to finish. Although they put jalapeno salsa verde in to save the day with a tangy profile, it couldn’t rescue the sinking ship.
Mushroom Mapo Tofu
Brace yourself for the tragedy that is Pachamama’s Mushroom Mapo Tofu. Each spoonful was a journey into the abyss of culinary despair. The Mapo sauce they dared to call a ‘sauce’ was nothing short of a culinary sin – a crime against every Asian flavor profile.
As an Asian, I wanted to cry. It was a disgrace to the rich tradition of Mapo Tofu. The sauce missed the memo on complexity; all it brought to the table was an overwhelming spiciness and a strong taste that left me pondering the existential question of whether I was eating tofu, mushroom, or some bizarre kitchen experiment gone wrong.
Conclusion:
Pachamama, the master of overpromising and underdelivering. Despite all the hype around its Peruvian-Asian fusion, it managed to fall short—or should I say, it did a stellar job at failing to deliver anything close to a memorable dining experience.
My rating? Let’s just say it mirrors the subpar execution of dishes, especially in the misuse of spices and sauces. While the ambiance and service strive to create a welcoming atmosphere, the lackluster flavors leave much to be desired, making it challenging to justify a return visit.
If you would like to taste your self: Booking is https://www.pachamamalondon.com/book-a-table
Check their menu including tasting course (Vegetarian, Vegan, and Pescatarian available): https://www.pachamamalondon.com/dinner
