There is usually nothing special about November 5 th . Unless, I guess, you are celebrating the eponymous conspirator Guy Fawkes with effigies and fireworks. But for us non-Brits, it’s another day on the calendar filled with dentist appointments and rubbish reminders.
This year was different. I didn’t adorn a sinister mask nor take to the streets in a fit of chaos and anarchy. I didn’t even have a cleaning to look forward to! No, on November 5th, I ate like a queen.
This particular sunny afternoon in Lima, Peru, Jay and I met a childhood friend of his for lunch and dined with the BUSINESS. ELITE. (It really was as daunting as it sounds.)
While we often look fairly put together for a couple of backpackers (our hair has not yet dreaded and laundry has not spoiled out of control), we strolled into with windblown hair and sun kissed cheeks eager for lunch.
While the modern high-rises fronted by black Caddies should have given it away, I realized after a mere second through the door that my jorts were not the best choice attire for this restaurante . Suddenly, my wannabe Blake Lively windblown locks were ratty strands.
We paraded through the first floor crowded with three-piece suits and pearl sets before making our way upstairs to be seated next to a table of Donald Trump’s future Apprentice Latino contestants. I quickly shoved my Jansport under the table and hid the holes in my otherwise adorable crochet flats with my jacket.
Avoiding eye contact at all cost, considering a glass of juice put us over our usual lunch budget, I asked one of our three waiters his opinion of the tuna tartare as I couldn’t seem to find the rice and beans. Or the order of half a chicken I have been accustomed to settling on over the last three months. Surely this was the holy menu of seafood if I ever saw one.
When the appetizers came I was still far too embarrassed to procure my far-from-conspicuous camera at the table to “play” with my food.
So my photo of the spiced octopus just doesn’t do it justice.
Maybe it was the Parmesan oysters, or maybe it was Jay’s encouragement to be the touristy, food-taking photographer I wanted to be, but soon enough I let myself fit in at the Cevicheria for the food enthusiast I am, if not anything else.
Pisco cheesecake is a direct ticket to heaven.
Enjoying ourselves and the company of a good friend was a highlight of Peru. In a country internationally known for its cuisine and seafood specialties, Segundo Muelle can certainly stand up to the rep.
So let November 5 th forever be the day I commit myself to a meal of delicacies and celebrate the love of fine cuisine the way we do unsuccessful revolutionaries and other bizarre novelties!