El Rincon Peruano

It’s always fun to see how different cultures interpret each others’ cuisines.

One of my fondest, and strangest, culinary memories involves a desperate meal at a supposedly “American” restaurant at a train station in a squalid Soviet industrial town in the Czech Republic.

I say desperate because my intention was to have my dinner in Vienna, but my travel plans were interrupted when the train I was riding in plowed over a young man from said squalid Soviet industrial town in what was apparently a suicide. 

It was the kind of town that never quite survived the Velvet revolution. Its grim, towering Soviet apartment buildings, called panelaks, had not been reclaimed by hip urban youth looking for affordable, ironic housing, as was the style in Prague at the time. Most of these panelaks had broken windows and graffiti from top to bottom, but the clotheslines strung between them suggested these crumbling, destitute relics of communism were still very much lived in.

Naturally, I was curious to see what this town’s interpretation of American cuisine might be. Between my three years of high school German and the waitress’s three years of high school German, I was able to not only order a hamburger, but to discern that delayed trains forced to pull into the little train station by locals bent on killing themselves played a significant role in the region’s economy.

I can only laugh when I hear other Americans complain about the food here in Yucatan, because I can’t imagine what these people would do if they were ever faced with the challenge of eating in squalid Soviet industrial towns in the Czech Republic.

My burger came atop a bed of what I assume were peas, with a side of knedlik, or steamed bread.  The burger itself was so steeped in its own grease, and the meat itself was so pale and lifeless, that it was difficult to discern just where the bun ended and the beef began.  Somewhere in this concoction was a sunny-side-up egg, a heap of sauerkraut, and more peas.

It wasn’t bad, but then again, in retrospect, I would have eaten just about anything given the situation.  That said, I wouldn’t have traded that meal for anything in the world, and my memories of that burger, and of that town, are bittersweet.

Luckily, you don’t have to go to the less-traveled corners of the Czech Republic for some cross-cultural cuisine, and your food can be much, much better.

El Rincon Peruano has a selection of ethnic foods, all interpreted through a Peruvian lens, that are all exceedingly better than anything you’ll find in a squalid Soviet industrial town.

Pesto, Peruvian Style

Their Chinese fried rice is about what you’d expect it to be, save for the addition of sliced hot dogs and the refreshing lack of grease found in most local Chinese restaurants.  And their spaghetti with pesto, made with dried basil and strips of grilled beef, is surprisingly delicious.

Of course, their best plates are those that are distinctly Peruvian.

Puerco con Mani, bits of grilled pork in a spicy peanut sauce, is hands down my favorite thing on the menu.  And when it’s not available, Causa de Atun, a molded heap of mashed potatoes topped with tuna salad, never disappoints. Best of all, everything is offered at the rock-bottom prices you’d expect from a cocina economica.

And on the weekend they offer ceviche, and who could possibly do ceviche better than Peruvians?

Causa de Atun

On the corner of Calle 22 and Calle 9, Col.  San Antonia Cinta.  Open Tuesday – Sunday from 1:00 PM to 4:00 PM.