Osso: Meat Mecca in Lima

My recent trip to Lima only lasted 5 days, yet it was so full of highlights that it felt like I was away for a month. Within minutes of arriving, I had dumped my bags at the hotel and was heading to Mistura for a day of serious eating with Mijune (aka Follow Me Foodie) and David (one of the head honchos at Chowzter). Over the following days we attended the Chowzter Latin America Awards, were treated to a personal chat with king of Peruvian food, Gastón Acurio, and ate and drank our way across some of the city’s finest restaurants, bars, street food stands and markets. Lima really is a food-lover’s paradise and not to be missed if you get the chance.

I am always mesmerised by all the amazing seafood in Lima, but on this occasion the two high-points of the trip centred on meat. Today I’ll tell you about my trip to Osso.

Osso Carnicería & Salumeria

A week before I left for Lima, I came across this excellent article by Lima expert and fellow Chief Chowzter, Nicholas Gill: The Meat Prophet of Peru. The photos alone were enough to get me drooling, but this was no simplistic piece of food porn. The article introduces us to Renzo Garibaldi, the intriguing Peruvian guy behind Osso, or to give it its full name, Osso Carnicería & Salumeria. Reading about Garibaldi’s approach to food, both in terms of lack of pretension (he describes himself as a butcher, not a chef) and innovation (he is taking the ageing and preparation of beef to new levels) made me long to pay this place a visit. Sadly, the word is out and the waiting list is measured in months. Then, with just one day left in Lima, I received a call. Someone had somehow managed to find me a place at the table. Joy!

Renzo Garibaldi: “If I ever serve those weird spheres in my restaurant, or construct my dishes with tweezers, just kill me!!”.

Situated on a nondescript street in the La Molina neighbourhood, Osso is split into 3 main areas: a shop, a restaurant and, for want of a better term, The Table. This large wooden table is hidden towards the rear of the building – the decor is simple and functional, the lighting is dim and the backdrop is a huge grill and smoker, neatly separated from the table itself by floor-to-ceiling glass.

Before the meal got going, Renzo spent time chatting with us and showing us the rooms where he stores and ages his meat. Once we were ready to begin, he  explained his 3 rules:

• No requests (You don’t get to choose how your meat is cooked – this is a butcher’s not a restaurant, he reminds us);
• Wash your hands (There is no cutlery so all eating is done the old fashioned way. Renzo’s wife uses the excess fat (tallow) from all this butchery to make a wonderful soap);
• No wine glasses directly on the wooden table (wine glass rings on this lovely big butcher’s table would be a crime, so we keep our glasses on our ample place mats).

And so we took our seats and the meal began:

We started with this mouthwatering board of apple-smoked ham and thinly sliced roast beef.

From the outset we knew that self-control would be necessary to avoid getting overfull before the end of the meal. Still, it broke my heart to leave these juicy slices of roast beef behind.

Duck rillette – a dieter’s nightmare, an eater’s dream – was smeared onto hunks of bread.

Lardo. Cured pork fat with vinegar and rosemary: pure, unadulterated pleasure on a plate. This would be the starter in my final meal.

Lardo on bread, ready to go.

As with everything else at Osso, the steak tartare was simple, pared down and unpretentious. Chunks of steak, egg yolks, onions, spring onions and a smattering of salt.

Renzo mixed the silky, creamy tartare in front of us and then walked around the table with the board. We got our hands gloriously messy as we grabbed fistfuls directly from the board.

No parts are wasted at Osso – this crunchy-shelled croquette was made with pork cheeks and trotters.

These exquisite burgers were just sealed on the outer surface, then topped with melted blue cheese, slivers of pancetta and a slice of cherry tomato, served on a herby brioche bun.

The meat on these delicately sweetened pork ribs was tender and almost buttery.

The piece of wagyu tenderloin was soft, fatty and utterly divine.

As the meal progressed, more and more pieces of beef were presented. Garibaldi works with different breeds, cuts, farms and preparation techniques.

Mid way through the meal, this appeared – a true South American salad! It made a refreshing interlude before the meaty courses resumed.

As well as different breeds and cuts, we also tried beef that had been aged for progressively longer periods. From 60 to 100 to 180 days. This morsel was topped with a streak of tangy chimichurri.

Flavour and texture are often traded-off against each other. This local Peruvian beef had tons of flavour, but was tougher than some of the other cuts/breeds.

This 180 day aged wagyu was imported from Snake River Farms (Idaho). It was soft, fatty and incredibly tender.

Renzo’s finale: a piece of 300 day dry-aged NY Strip steak…

The strip steak from the previous image was buried under the coals for exactly 2 minutes.

After 2 minutes, the meat was retrieved and the charred edges and ash knocked off in the flames.

Renzo brought this unique meat to each of us in turn.

What happens to beef that’s been aged for the best part of a year? If it’s been done right, it develops an intense nutty flavour that blew the mind of everyone lucky enough to be invited to this special event.

After tasting that amazing piece of beef (and all those other wonderful courses), I felt sure that I wouldn’t be eating for another 24 hours. Then the ‘Osso Mess’ arrived at the table and my stomach informed me that it would make an exception (just this once):

‘Osso Mess’, a divine bacon-laced take on British favourite, Eton Mess, with bacon caramel and thin slices of pancetta mixed into a mess of meringue, strawberries, cream and ice-cream.

The food alone made this an exciting meal, but it was Renzo Garibaldi who really made this the unforgettable experience that it was. In the esoteric world of fine dining, where foams and spherification hold favour, where dishes are constructed with tweezers and where chefs act like prima donnas, it’s incredibly refreshing to be introduced to delicious, ground-breaking food by a humble bloke wearing a lumberjack shirt and a baseball cap. Bravo Renzo!