Jora. Ceviche. Peru.

Restaurant: 8/10

Delightful place. Everything delicious.

Dish: 9/10

Hard to imagine it being much better.

Ceviche Is the national dish of Peru - a country that stands alone in South American gastronomy. It's a bold move to call ceviche your national dish - many countries have it on their standard menus, but Peru is here to say all your ceviche ain't shit. 

There are quite a few decent Peruvian restaurants in New York City, but one stands on a corner in Long Island City that we had always meant to try, and the challenge gave us the means and the opportunity to do so. It is called Jora, a word with Quechuan origins, pertaining to the corn that is prepared to make the ancient corn-based alcoholic drinks that have existed in South America for centuries. Sort of like malt for beer, we're guessing. 

Raw Fish

There are people in this world who do not like raw fish and more's the pity for them. But fifty percent of the people engaged in this challenge are in said pity party, and thus the likes of sushi and ceviche and poke have always been something to avoid rather than embrace. However, good food, of any type, will always win over the reticent and the sayers of nay, so the ceviche at Jora was enjoyed by all eaters, and was a refreshing starter before a very nice early evening meal. 

Fish is a miraculous thing. It really feels like anything you do to it, from the moment you fish it out of the water, is impairing it, not improving it. The best fish you can possibly eat is any fish that was swimming earlier that day. Really, the only reason to do anything to it, is to add different dimensions of flavor, or to combat the natural and post-catch bacteria that can find its way from the fish to your stomach if you just nosh on the beast raw like Bear Gryhls. 

Thus the absolute ideal preparation, for flavor and freshness, and to pay homage to the mineral-rich taste of fresh fish, is to drag it out of the ocean to a beach shack, where a guy called Francisco guts it, fillets it, chops it, adds a healthy squeeze of lime juice, some salt, and a little chopped cilantro. The other raw Ingredients are really just there to remind you that what you're eating is raw, and perfect. 

We challenge anyone to explain to us why sushi is superior to ceviche. You can't cut the fish anyway that's gonna offend us. And you can't serve raw fish and rice and tell us that's three michelin star cuisine. 

Peru and Peruvian Americans


One doesn't think of Peru as a major country when one thinks of immigrants from South America to the United States. Colombia - oh yes. Venezuela - definitely. Ecuador - for sure. Brazil and Argentina - in a way. But Peru? Of the Peruvians we have met in the USA, most have been very much visiting, rather than staying forever. 


But that's just us.  Apparently there are more than 700,000 Peruvians and Peruvian-Americans up here. Most of them in states other than New York, but a solid 182,000 in the NYC metro. 

With relatively little to say about Peruvian Americans, the Peruvian chapter of this challenge gives us the chance to talk about uncontracted tribes, one of the few remaining fascinating things about human life on earth. "Uncontacted" is a term of reference more than a literal term, because it's not like these tribes are hanging out In the Amazon with absolutely no idea that there is a whole world out there. But many uncontacted tribes have never Interacted with westerners at all, ever, in any way that's recorded by history and the largest of those tribes In the Amazon (there are larger ones in Papua New Guinea) are in Peru - the Mashco-Piro. While we know that all uncontacted tribes are under threat, it's somehow comforting to know that the an age where everyone in the west is constantly connected via devices they carry with them not only to each other but to almost all the information we have been gathering for millenia, that there are people who are oblivious to that, and who have rarely met westerners at all. Also - we bet they love ceviche, even if they call it something different. 


Jora

Jora is in a prime and noticeable position, right at the foot of the Pulaski bridge in Queens, on the corner of 48th Ave and 11th St. It might be one of the most striking corner restaurants in all of New York City, and with the amount of traffic that passes through this little corridor on its way to the Queens Midtown Tunnel, we wonder how much custom it gets just on the basis of its relative visibility. 

Jora has been in place since 2014. Before that, according to Google Streeview images, it was a place called Crossroads Diner. The dining room is casual, welcoming and unassuming, and there is a bar at the back, referred to as a Pisco Bar (although they serve all kinds of drinks), that seems the sort of place you might make your fancy LIC watering hole if you lived on this side of the bridge. Everything we ate at Jora was fantastic, and we will be back without a shadow of a doubt. 


Gracias! Adios!