We have no beef with fish.
A zippy ceviche or bracing aguachile is a classic complement to any sweltering summer day in L.A.
But not all of our friends can eat seafood. Nor does a ceviche necessarily have to be made within the margins of raw fish, shrimp, or mariscos marinated or cooked in citrus.
Modern restaurants the world over frequently play with the staple, maintaining the tangy, refreshing aspects of the dish, while substituting for traditional components like seafood, sliced onions, citrus, and chile, often rearranging recipes into something that “feels” like ceviche but fits outside of rigid definitions.
In Peru, where corn, potato, and aji amarillo chiles commonly lace the national dish of ceviche, chefs have pushed the boundaries when it comes to what proteins may be involved.
“I’ve made ceviches with all kinds of different proteins all my life,” Walther Adrianzen, the Peruvian-born chef and owner of Culver City’s CevicheStop, tells L.A. TACO. “Duck and chicken ceviche are common in the north of Peru, but now in Peru, they are doing guinea pigs, lizards, crazy things like that. It’s more usual to see things like this than it was before.”
The chef, who says he will soon open new CevicheStop locations in Santa Monica and La Puente, has made ceviches in the past using crispy cecina and pork belly. His own version of guinea pig ceviche often appears during the monthly cuy (guinea pig) tasting menu dinners he holds at his restaurant.
If basing a ceviche around anything other than raw, citrus-marinated fish sounds like sacrilege to the purist faction out there, those who believe ceviche should only be fresh fish cooked with lime, author Dan Jurafsky reminds us that most dishes we hold sacred to our national identities or heritage likely evolved from the favorite meal of other completely different, older culture.
In his 2014 book, The Language of Food, Jurafsky tells the story of sikbāj, a sweet-and-tart beef stew made with vinegar that was a favorite of Persian king Khosrow I in the 6th century and likely has even older origins in its inspiration, with like-minded recipes stretching back to those recovered from 1,700 B.C. Babylon.
Sikbāj, or at least its acidic model of pairing vinegar with protein, was spread throughout the world by Muslim sailors. They eventually incorporated the seafood found most easily at hand and whatever best preserved it for a long journey by sea, be it vinegar or citrus.
Some believe that, over the course of many centuries, sikbāj paved the way for favorite global recipes such as the phonetically related escabeche, British fish-and-chips, and Latin American ceviche, while vindaloo and Filipino adobo also spring to mind. Limes and citrus didn't arrive in Latin America until 1,200
These are five Los Angeles ceviches that eschew fish and shrimp for something different. It's far from an exhaustive list, as L.A. is a multidimensional ceviche town.
We’ve had carne apache from Don Chamorrón’s Michoacán-style kitchen (currently close and being rebuilt due to fire) and vegan, young coconut ceviches at Gracias Madre that thrilled us every bit as our favorite Sinaloan mariscos stand or Peruvian restaurant.
Here are just a few favorites to get you started.
Ceviche de Chorizo ~ Colombia Parce
In a small outdoor market on Whittier Boulevard, next to East L.A. Wholesale Beverages and Odd Fellows Cemetery, Colombia Parce owner Vanessa Medrano is representing the street food commonly seen in Colombia, including dishes like mazorcada, transmiperros, and salchipapas.
“This small restaurant was born in March because I want people to see the other face of Colombian food,” Medrano tells L.A. TACO. “Not just like the typical place, which we like, too. But I’m trying to show what traditional Colombian street food is like.”
You’ll find Medrano and a partner named Kathy on select afternoons making their own plantain chips from scratch next to the stands of neighboring vendors they’re quick to recommend, among them selling moles, mojarra frita, fresh fruit smoothies, cemitas poblanas, and Honduruan baleados.
Colombia Parce, named after a term that addresses one’s “homies” and/or “bros,” prepares a small appetizer of rich ceviche de chorizo. It comes in a bowl with red coins of semi-soft pork sausage in a really nice, acidic bath of herby aji picante, liquified onion, and tomato.
The expected tangy, citrus-forward flavors of ceviche are all there, only with the manifold joys of tender pork providing a spiced, meaty backdrop in place of fish or shrimp. Served with sloping plantain chip canoes, it’s ideal for anyone who doesn’t do fish but wants to experience the thrills of a ceviche.
“Ceviche with fish, shrimp, and octopus is something you may find a lot in the Pacific and Caribbean regions of Colombia, more similar to Peruvian ceviche than what you find in L.A.,” says Medrano, who grew up in Bogotá and has family in Antioquia. “But in Medellín, you find people specializing in pork. So we offer ceviche de chorizo and a ceviche with pork skin, you know, with really toasted crunchy pork belly.”
Thurs-Sun., 3666 Whittier Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90023
Beef Sirloin Tiradito ~ La Cha Cha Cha
La Cha Cha Cha’s rooftop patio is the perfect perch to knock down exciting takes on fresh Mexican seafood on a sunny day in the city or as the moon creeps towards the edge of Downtown’s skyline. Masa-crusted calamari rings, cured shrimp ceviche in coconut brine, and a scallop tostada beautiful enough to frame are all compelling reasons on their own for you to go.
However, chef Daniel Saavedra’s sirloin tiradito is not to be ignored. The dish, served cold, is an instant trip to umami station, with its luscious lobes of slightly-seared, cumin-and-coffee-rubbed beef tataki in an acidic salsa marisquera. The chef’s version of this Sinaloan salsa negra, designed to marry with mariscos, is made with clam juice, tomato juice, yuzu, soy, bonito flakes, aged balsamic vinegar, and salsa Maggi. Tied with an anchovy aioli and burnt coriander, it celebrates the notion of “savory” and ties together influences from Japan, Mexico, and Italy.
"The main inspiration really comes from memories of me, as a kid, pouring all the pico [de gallo] juice that collected at the bottom of the bowl over my carne asada,” Saavedra tells L.A. TACO. “And a mashup of Mexican-style sashimi and vitello tonnato. It’s super solid.”
812 E. 3rd St. Los Angeles, CA 90013
Ribeye Aguachile Empanada ~ Simón
Despite limited kitchen space, Oaxacan chef Francisco Aguilar didn’t take long to make a big splash with his mariscos truck, Simón, which sets up daily on Sunset Boulevard in Silver Lake. Soft shell crab tacos, ceviches, and agua chiles in an array of colors and styles, and tacos with fish al pastor and octopus make it a terminus for lovers of unique and gorgeously executed seafood specialties.
But if you can’t or don’t eat seafood, you’ve still come to the right place. The truck’s cochinita pibil costras with pickled onion and asada quesadillas with bell pepper are just as compelling reasons to stop. A highlight of the menu are Simon’s empanadas.
The hot, half-open-faced pastry comes in a pillowy masa cover, packed with ribeye steak that's been marinated in an aguachile negro, which oozes about the edges like India ink. The heat builds with every bite, the tender, peppery ribeye resounding in acidic notes while pickled onions and a layer of cucumbers attempt to tame the fire, and a bed of coagulated cheese tempts sin from the bottom.
“It randomly occurred to me one day while looking at all the ingredients I had in the truck,” Aguilar tells L.A. TACO. “First, I imagined the flavors in my head, then I made it, and I really liked it. Our negro sauce is [from] our popular aguachile, so it made sense to incorporate it differently and I thought an empanada would be a good idea.
What could be an aguachile-stuffed, masa-based Hot Pocket is propelled by its dynamic flavors more into into the realm of the best hand-held, aguachile-inspired ribeye cheesesteak on earth.
“Customers who didn’t eat shrimp but wanted the aguachile flavors would in the past request steak as a substitute,” Aguilar tells L.A. TACO. “So it was more of a hidden item or request only before I made it available as an empanada.”
3667 Sunset Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90026
King Mushroom Ceviche ~ Hummingbird
Chef Ricardo Zarate first turned the world of L.A. ceviche on its head with the vitally fresh version made at Mo-Chica, the stand inside Mercado Paloma that the Lima native debuted while still working as a sushi chef at Venice’s Wabi Sabi, which would launch his empire.
This month, Zarate opened his own ceviche house, Hummingbird, in Echo Park. On a menu filled with inspired seafood ceviches and tiraditos, Zarate answered the call of his vegan fans with a king mushroom ceviche. This summer dish combines Nikkei influences with meaty braised king mushrooms, roasted tomato, and jalapeno, dressed in ponzu with creamy avocado and buckshot of Japanese crispy rice.
It’s one of those dishes you will have to order. Or otherwise spend time jealousy eyeing the table of the vegans next to you, wondering what could have been.
1600 N. Alvarado St. Los Angeles, CA 90026
Ceviche de Chicharrón ~ Encaletao’s
Encaleato’s is a fast-food truck that is located on the western edge of Downtown. It serves burgers, hot dogs, and regional dishes that reflect Colombia’s Caribbean coast in cities like Barranquilla, Cartagena, and Santa Marta.
Here, you’ll find a ceviche de chicharrón, featuring cubes of lightly fried, skin-on swine belly served hot under ribbons of what must be half a large white onion and a pale orange sauce that looks like Thousand Island but packs a slightly tropical flavor and just a little heat. The sweetness and acidity of the onions cut through the fat and meat, lightening its landing in what gives the overall vibe of a pork salad.
“We decided to incorporate chicharrón ceviche in our menu because it integrates the fresh and crunchy Caribbean flavors of chicharrón,” Encaleato’s owner tells L.A. TACO. “It’s an excellent explosion on the palate. Ceviche is a Latin dish, regardless of the country. We wanted to offer a different way to show this product in the best style of Encaletao's.”
924 W. Sunset Blvd. Los Angeles, CA 90012
