Virgilio Martínez on topography, tubers and Peru’s secret larder

It’s because of this that Virgilio has set up Mater Iniciativa, a research lab dedicated to finding, documenting and researching these ingredients, and how the rural communities found all over Peru cultivate and cook them. Based in Cusco, in the mountains, he plans to have around twenty people eventually working there, to help spread awareness of the country’s bountiful larder and preserve its culinary heritage.

‘We’re only just starting to discover Peru,’ he tells me. ‘About fifteen years ago the country changed massively – there was more tourism, the economy improved and it became safe to travel. Before all this people like me were just staying in Lima in this little bubble, and the only reason you’d venture into the Andes was to see Machu Picchu. We used suppliers for all our ingredients in restaurants and never learnt about the producers, but now I work entirely with the farmers and don’t use suppliers. We are beginning to understand the incredible geography around us, which in turn helps us to understand the world as a whole. That’s why I wanted the book to be not just about Peru, but to show my idea is one that can be reproduced anywhere else. Even in the UK you just have to look at your surroundings; when I went to the Highlands of Scotland I saw these amazing landscapes, and I think sometimes people take it for granted.’

Of course, finding all these ingredients which are often only used by small, rural communities means there’s quite a lot of travel involved. Virgilio sounds like a sort of gastronomic David Attenborough, hiking through jungles to meet shamans and tribes to find undiscovered foods before bringing them back to his lab to be scientifically catalogued. ‘We find things out through word of mouth and we have lots of people all over Peru who will call us up when they hear about something,’ he explains. ‘But because we now have Mater Iniciativa, more and more people are coming to us directly with information. And when we go in search of one ingredient, we quite often discover another ten or twenty we’d never heard of before.’

These ingredients range from new varieties of potatoes and corn to the downright weird – edible clay from Altiplano being a good example. ‘Some people come to Central and don’t really like the idea of eating clay, but it’s just part of what we do,’ says Virgilio. ‘We serve things you probably won’t have seen before, and we want to challenge people’s perceptions of food and open their eyes to what’s out there.’

The food at Central is presented in an incredibly artful, refined way, but the chefs never use thickeners or colourings unless they can be naturally found in whatever microclimate they’re trying to represent. Virgilio originally found this to be a bit of a challenge, but as he started discovering more and more ingredients, he realised everything a chef could want or need was there – you just had to know where to look. ‘Obviously, the food we cook has to be delicious and the experience has to be better than what people expect when they come to Central, but that doesn’t mean we have to ignore what we believe in. The ingredients are the easy part; it’s attempting to take the spirituality or culture of a place and turn it into a single plate of food that we sometimes struggle with.’