Every other week in this space, Gusto will tell the story
of a South Florida restaurant and provide advice to diners along
the way.
Like love (or lust), a meal can be a passport into a culture.
From Lima to Coral Gables comes Francesco, regarded as one of
the best seafood restaurants in Peru, a coastal country gifted
with fabulous marine life and one of the most flavorful cuisines
in South America.
Barely 4 months old, Francesco is housed on Alcazar Avenue in
a quaint yellow bungalow with hunter green awnings. Overlooking
the mirrored dining room is a splendid but small painting of the
Machu Picchu Inca ruins high in the Andean cordillera,
the only visible touch of Peru. A picture of the Sacred Heart,
typical of Catholic homes in the Spanish world, also graces the
walls, as this is a family enterprise that now straddles two
countries.
The restaurant is named after patriarch Francesco Danovaro,
the family's Italian grandfather. Father Aldo operates the
18-year-old restaurant in Lima; son Franco oversees what he
calls ``the Miami adventure.''
Franco has brought with him three chefs from Lima, but not
easily: Getting visas in a post-Sept. 11 world proved tougher
than usual. But he prevailed, and in just a short while, and
largely through word of mouth, the restaurant has become a
meeting place for well-heeled Peruvians in South Florida.
''We're like a little embassy for Peru,'' Franco says.
Cross-continental fans of Francesco order without even
looking at the leather-bound menu, which is small and
specialized because Danovaro prepares ''whatever Peruvian
specialty you'd like to eat.'' Hence, it helps to bring a
cultural guide, as I did on my first visit -- a huachano,
one who hails from the northern coastal region of Huacho.
Or simply order from the tasting menu ($36 a person for
dinner) and let Franco and his bilingual staff guide you. They
are expert interpreters of the difference between ceviches
and tiraditos ($14 for a sampler plate, but included in
the price of the tasting menu). Tiraditos are slimmer
cuts of fish and seafood. The tiraditos are not as thin
as carpaccio nor as chunky as ceviche, and they don't
come with onions. Both styles are raw fish in lime juice, but
the secret to perfecting the flavor lies in the hands of a chef
who knows how long to let the fish marinate.
Before launching into such delights, however, start with a
glass of jerez sour ($6), Francesco's Miami
interpretation of the national Peruvian drink. This one is made
with sherry and nicknamed in English ''sherry sour.'' It's the
no-hard-liquor-license version of pisco sour, made with a
clear brandy distilled from the fermented juice of black grapes
grown in the Inca Valley. With sherry or with brandy, the tart
drink is a must-try.
Nothing goes better with a jerez sour than a plate of choros
a la chalaca ($9), boiled mussels in their shells topped
with finely chopped onions, a touch of lime, olive oil and the
Peruvian rocoto, a red pepper that looks like a tomato
and is simply divine. Another topping that makes these mussels
ultra special: choclo, the unique large, almost-white
corn of Peru. (My huachano companion swears by the choclo
with rice, $4 as a side dish.)
The combination of flavors makes the mussels the sexiest item
on the menu -- a dish to be shared.
But what's a Peruvian restaurant without ceviche?
Here, it comes in three renditions. The classic, lime and
salt-based, is delicious enough, featuring fish in its freshest
state. But try the ceviche as well in wonderful Peruvian
sauces, a mild yellow pepper sauce and Francesco's fabulous
spicy red rocoto sauce.
Fresh tuna, salmon, mahi-mahi are prepared in myriad
ways, as are camarones (shrimp) and conchitas
(scallops). But the most delicious entrée we sampled was the clásico
lomo saltado con tacu tacu de champigñones ($17), thin
chunks of beef tenderloin sautéed with onions, tomato, red wine
and soy sauce, accompanied by tacu tacu, a triangular shaped
mass of fried beans and rice stuffed with mushrooms. When
available, sample it with camote, a silky yellow potato
that only grows in the Andes.
Dessert is . . . literally and figuratively . . . a sigh of
pleasure.
Suspiro a la limeña ($4), ''Limean sigh,'' looks like
oodles of dulce de leche topped with whipped cream, but
it's neither. The sweet, caramel-colored paste is called manjar
blanco and is less sweet and softer than the popular candied
milk dessert of Latin America. And the topping is an
Italian-style merengue made with egg whites. Francesco serves
the suspiro lightly dusted with cinnamon in an elegant wine
glass.
''This is the most typical of Peruvian desserts,'' Franco
says.
Just as delicious is the mousse de lúcuma ($5) made
from the lúcuma fruit, native to the Andean regions and
grown by the Incas. (Lúcuma ice cream is said to be more
popular in Peru than chocolate, vanilla or strawberry). The lúcuma
mousse is also served in a wine glass over a chocolate brownie
and is topped with a light chocolate syrup.
Every spoonful is sinful, and certainly, you'll come back for
more. For a taste of Francesco is but the beginning of a love
affair with the culture and cuisine of Peru.
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