Two small bowls of cancha—toasted Peruvian corn—and fried plantain chips are the first things to arrive at my table. They’re accompanied by bright and tart ají amarillo chili and huacatay (Andean black mint) sauces, essential fixtures of any Peruvian meal. Música criolla (Latin American folk music) pulses from the speakers, while around me families share heaping platters of ceviche mixto (made with a mix of seafood), arroz con mariscos (seafood rice) and lomo saltado (stir-fried beef with onions, tomatoes, and fries). As I get my starter—choritos a la chalaca, which are steamed mussels topped with a zesty onion, tomato, and lime relish—a young woman sets up in a corner, takes out a microphone, and begins singing in Spanish. The waiters join in, and soon, the whole restaurant is clapping along.
I feel I could be at a low-key eatery in Lima. Except that I’m some 6,600 miles around the world at El Chorrillano, a no-frills Peruvian restaurant in Milan, Italy, during Sunday lunch. Known for its traditional menu and always-fresh seafood, the place is an institution for the local Peruvian community, who come here over the weekend for a taste of home. It is one of the many, many Peruvian establishments that dot the city. Peruvians are the fifth largest foreign community in Milan—making them the largest immigrant population from South America—and one of its most active. They bring their heritage to the northern Italian metropolis through festivals, cultural gatherings, and, increasingly, food. A quick search on Google Maps confirms this culinary footprint: From the multicultural neighborhood of Nolo (where El Chorrillano is) in the northeast to the lively canalside district of Navigli in the south, Peruvian restaurants, bars, and cafes are woven into the city’s fabric. Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising, given the hundreds of years of dialogue between the two countries: Italian immigration to Peru dates back to the colonial era in the 1500s, and Peruvians, in turn, began arriving in Milan in the 1980s in a wave of emigration spurred on by political and economic instability at home.
“We are a tight-knit community deeply connected through food,” says Rita Guillen Huamani, co-founder of the Comunità Italo Peruana (CIP), an organization that promotes integration between Italians and Peruvians. “But we also take pride in sharing [our food] with others, which is why our restaurants are everywhere in Milan rather than clustered in one isolated enclave. We want Peruvian cuisine to be part of the Milanese experience.”
Just like Peruvian cuisine itself—diverse, layered, and rich in influences ranging from Andean to Chinese to Italian, even—Milan’s Peruvian food scene runs the gamut from rustic to refined. Many spots feel like Peruvian versions of a neighborhood osteria, with family-style tables, unfussy service, and simple décor that sometimes verges on the kitschy. El Chorrillano, for instance, leans into a nautical theme, with anchors, sea-inspired murals, and a plaster shark jetting from a wall.
D’ Karbon Y Limon, which has two locations in southern Milan, serves classics like pollo a la brasa (rotisserie chicken) and causa rellena (a layered potato terrine) amid simple wooden tables and colorful Peruvian paintings of Lake Titicaca and Andean scenery. In the hipster Lambrate area, El Hornero, famous for its parrilladas (barbecue meats like skewered beef and pork ribs), immerses diners in a gaucho-inspired setting with wooden barrels and cowhides. It’s at these places that the homesick—Peruvians, but also Ecuadorians, Salvadorans, and Hondurans—go to seek the familiar.
But in the last few years—particularly post-pandemic—Peruvian cuisine in Milan has also evolved beyond these humble roots, finding a place in the city’s more elevated dining scene. In contemporary, polished settings inventive chefs have set out to play with flavors and ingredients, showcasing Peruvian food as an example of culinary fusion. Casa Lemon, in the elegant Indipendenza area, is one such place. An intimate 40-seat bistro that looks like a friend’s cool dining room—think handpicked antique market finds, black-and-white family photos, and retro lighting—it was opened in 2021 by Miguel Angel Castillo Pinto, a Lima-born chef who lived in Spain, Argentina, Canada, and the UK before settling in Milan just before the pandemic. His menu is the culmination of all his past experiences and culinary contaminations, with a constant nod to the pillars of Peruvian food: lime, onions, ají amarillo, and leche de tigre (a citrus-based marinade that forms the base of ceviche), which feature in many of his dishes.
