Grace and flavour: Lima

And so it came to pass, after years of Boris telling us to give London a swerve in August, everyone did so obediently. I’ve found all the crowds, they’re eating in my local hangout Westfield Stratford City, guzzling Wagamama’s excellent chilli squid and the jerk chicken from Caribbean Scene with a Pinkberry frozen yoghurt for afters. Being frank, I’d rather visitors were there than sat glumly in the Swiss suicide-clinic ambience of an Aberdeen Angus Steak House, or eating a botulism-dog at Oxford Circus. And I’m appreciating empty London greatly. I can get queue-free noodles at Koya, a scoot through the bras in empty Fenwick, then ride home on a half-empty peak-time Central Line without my face squashed in a hirsute man’s bumcrack. It’s not too shabby. I could also grab a table last minute on a Saturday night for new upmarket Peruvian restaurant Lima on Rathbone Place.

Aside from the wilting marmalade sandwich Paddington Bear kept under his hat, I didn’t know much about Peruvian cuisine. I invited my friends Caitlin Moran and Lauren Laverne to investigate with me. While waiting, I ordered us a round of Pisco Sours: small, delicate-looking, deadly beakers of lime juice, egg-white froth and Peruvian grape brandy. Lima serves the best Pisco Sours in London, although they’re from the same stable as Espresso Martinis where one is delicious, two isn’t enough and three might end up with you pregnant by some geezer in a bar called Billy… could’ve been Gilly, from Clapham… might’ve been Clapton.

And in all honesty, I need a drink these days when I have dinner with Caitlin, as ever since her brilliant book How To Be A Woman — filled with candid, white-knuckle tales of her lower regions — went stellar, perfectly sane women will spot her then gravitate towards the table to unleash tales of their own. ‘I need to tell you about when I first gave myself an orgasm…’ they’ll say joyously, as I push runny polenta around a plate pulling a face like when the cat brings me decapitated voles. I’m considering making a sign that says: ‘Dining in progress, I do not wish to hear a potted history of your lady garden.’

Lima is the sort of place to take tired foodies who think they’ve seen it all. Book a table for a glum gourmand or an out-of-town business party who you’d rather not chat to about business. Delicious starter dishes such as artichoke with white onion, Amazon tree tomato, lemon and pink molle, or the asparagus Peru with limo ají pepper, purple corn and yellow potato will arrive, brimming with good value. I saw colours on Lima’s plates that I didn’t think were found naturally on this earth. On Neptune, perhaps.

If you go, do start with Lima’s octopus. In fact, sneak in by yourself, order a bewilderingly hot Chilli and Strawberry Martini (which comes with red chilli devil horns), the octopus, followed by Lima’s exemplary lamb shoulder with black quinoa, coriander, white grape and Pisco cinnamon. Total joy. Although I could possibly have eaten two, with sides, if they served sides.

Admittedly, after two Pisco Sours and one Chilli Martini each, my table’s commitment to serious food criticism had dwindled somewhat. Caitlin’s suckling pig with Amazon cashew, potato and pear looked fabulous, disappearing rapidly enough for me to believe it was bloody delicious, although it’s to be noted that Caitlin will eat absolutely anything that won’t try to eat her in the process. Lauren’s eco dried potato, rocket, ají panca pepper and cacao porcelana sounded wondrous enough, but transpired to be a sort of earthy Innocent Veg Pot with a fancy CV. It’s a strong portent when the vegetarian politely can’t finish a plate of veg and no one wants to eat it for her.

Luckily, the puddings appeased us: a bowl of Andean kiwicha (a supergrain) with sheep’s milk, cinnamon and purple corn jelly was sloppy, sweet and earthy. The dulce de leche (a sort of milky caramel jam) with maca root crumble and beetroot fell into the category weird but delicious. Lima closed before we could order more Pisco Sours. It was a blessing really.

Lima, 31 Rathbone Place, W1, 020 3002 2640, www.limalondon.com