Jorge Muñoz: “More than awards, restaurants in Peru need customers”

Barcelona, ​​July 2015. I am there to interview the most famous Spanish chef of all time, Ferran Adrià, shortly before his visit to Lima where he would present an exhibition. One of the restaurants in his culinary group, a small place called Pakta, located in the modest Poble Sec neighborhood, has just won a Michelin star with its vibrant Nikkei food offering, and we asked to visit it. Pakta’s is an absolutely innovative concept, out of the ordinary in Barcelona at that time. It is commanded by a Peruvian named Jorge Muñoz, about whom not much was known until the announcement of the star, but now he is the great prophet outside of his land. He was not a cook who made a career in Lima, but one trained entirely in Europe.

In fact, the first time I spoke with him we talked about the small ‘boom’ around Peruvian gastronomy that was beginning to be cooked at that time in Spain. The second, Muñoz invites me to try the Pakta menu with a reservation for two people. To put ourselves in context: finding a seat in a restaurant recently recognized by the Michelin guide is an almost impossible feat to achieve. There are people at the door waiting to see if a slot opens, tourists arriving from all sides. Crazy. I decide to take my sister, who lives in Barcelona, ​​but my brother-in-law asks to join at the last minute. In a true leap of faith, I pray all the way that there is enough room in the restaurant for the three of us. Pakta’s table was so, so requested, that the change was not possible and we had to lose the reservation. Every time I meet Jorge Muñoz, he reminds me of that day laughing. I always respond that my brother-in-law is now my ex-brother-in-law.

Lima, April 2018. Jorge likes sauce. It is not surprising that one of his first events in Lima took place in a restaurant where vinyl records of El Gran Combo and Héctor Lavoe were playing, in the heart of Surquillo. Jorge had not yet completely settled here, but his increasingly frequent trips had begun to awaken a curiosity in the gastronomic field: why would he leave everything in Spain to start from scratch in Peru, without certainties? no guarantees? After a long and delicious list of “pop ups” and “shared kitchens” in several restaurants in the capital, the answer finally began to be seen at the beginning of 2019, when Jorge was signed as the main chef of Astrid & Gastón, a great personal achievement. His time in that kitchen was exciting, in his style. But the plan that the chef had left marinating for many years, perhaps more than he is aware of, he still needed to find time and space to be able to develop just as he had dreamed of.

Cusco, February 2024. Sitting in the plaza of the Monasterio, the exclusive and imposing hotel of the Belmond chain in Cusco, Jorge Muñoz counts the minutes until he enters the kitchen. We are there to give you a first taste of Oqre, the hotel’s main restaurant, where Muñoz wants to decentralize the menu and include the best of the coast, mountains and jungle. The Ande continues to be the protagonist, but its objective is that visitors—both tourists and locals—can take away an experience sprinkled with Peruvianness, with all the territories that said term includes. Fish and seafood arrive fresh, by plane, for the traditional ceviche or the sudado that has been included in the menu, both with catch of the day. He even wanted to add some bucattini with diabla sauce and seafood. Its roast strip has aromas of Southeast Asia, while its lamb is accompanied by a risotto with northern flavors. The tiradito is served with trout and the tartar, with alpaca. In addition, Jorge is preparing the new menu for the hotel’s second restaurant (Tupay), the lobby bar, and the hotel chain’s two luxury trains: the Hiram Bingham and the Andean Explorer. Behind it, there are months of preparation: Muñoz has been traveling to Cusco at least once a week since August of last year. Just look at his Instagram account to confirm it.

With the opening of a Miraflorino bar (San Telmo) scheduled for April, in addition to a sea ember restaurant – possibly in Surquillo, with the name La Charo – and a signature space called Nakamoto, for the end of 2024 or beginning of 2025, I talk again with the chef.

You are rarely seen still. Especially when it comes to your projects. Not only do you manage the restaurants in Cusco and the openings in Lima, but you also have a hamburger ‘dark kitchen’ (La Verdadera), you are a partner in a ‘rooftop’ and you continue to do events. Do you ever stop the rhythm?

Do you know what that is? Fear. Fear of forgetting to cook. I only know how to cook. For me there is not a day when I don’t do it. I did not come to Peru to teach, but to learn. If I stop, I die.

But you can’t be everywhere at once.

No, although I try. The plan is to have some brands that I can run. I think that in gastronomy we are in a scenario where we have chefs who are very good, and that helps. That’s where I see the future of gastronomy going: in the hours we work, in the vehemence we have to continue looking for new things, concepts, styles. That’s the equation.

Recently, having recovered from the pandemic, many formats and openings have proven to be quite sustainable. Do you think we are experiencing a moment of renewed optimism in Peruvian gastronomy?

I believe that continuing to believe in ourselves makes us sustainable. From the economic side, the fact that we do things well both inside and outside means that investors continue looking at Peru. In some cases, I have put in my own money, but in most cases I have partners. Thinking as an entrepreneur, there are things you can do to make the model profitable. Going out to eat in Lima does not cost the same today as it did three or five years ago. There are places that are made for you to go once every six months, but there are others where you can go twice a week. I want to offer options for everyone.

The word may be overused, but do you see yourself as a leader of this generation?

It is difficult to say that we are the “new” generation. Many of us are close to forty, others are younger. We are sort of mixed up with the previous cooks and those who are just starting out. The good thing is that there is a closeness that transcends ages. But I don’t think it’s necessary to always have a leader in every generation.

The way in which cooking content is consumed has been changing. We have everything from the boom of “The Great Chef” to gastronomic influencers. Public interest remains fueled.

They are topics that occur, whether you like it or not, whether you share it or not. In the end many things add up, but they don’t necessarily have to do with gastronomy. A lot of it is entertainment.

Another topic that today more than ever sets the tone are awards. You’ve already won a Michelin star and you know what it entails. Would you like to experience something similar in Lima?

When I was in Barcelona Albert Adrià told me something that I have never forgotten: if you open a restaurant to earn a star or be on the list, you are wrong. If you are ready, the restaurant deserves it and you have worked hard enough to make it happen, welcome. But you can’t focus on what you want, much less before opening. Because you don’t decide if you deserve it.

With the new rules of the 50 Best list, where the number 1 is not repeated, the showcase is expanded. Do you think awards are necessary in a country like ours?

That is determined by the restaurant and the style of cooking you do. If 80% of your diners are Peruvian, you don’t need a 50 Best. If tourists go, yes. Any type of recognition towards the team and the restaurant always adds up, each person handles it as they see fit. What is clear is that one does not open a restaurant so that it is empty. More than prizes, what restaurants need are customers. For example, when you enter Maido and see the display case that is full of prizes, you also see that the store is full of customers. If not, then something is wrong. Micha knows what she does, who she addresses. That’s what we need: for the chef to understand his audience.

Do you think you would have been a cook if you stayed in Peru? Maybe cooking was your way of feeling close while being far away.

I always wondered what would have happened if I didn’t go to Spain. She thought about it all the time. Until one day a friend told me that wasn’t the way I should see it. “What’s going to happen when you come back?” He told me. That was the question I had to ask myself. When I understood it, everything changed. //