…since I’ve posted. But now I’m back with some goods. One good. Llama Inn. I fucking love llamas.
And establishments that sound like an obscure motel near a petting zoo where you can put 25 cents in a gum ball machine and leave with a plastic hot pink llama or stale bubble gum ball and call it a day, but it’s not. I have no idea what I just said, but hear me out.
I suggest getting involved with Llama Del Rey, some sangria spin-off with a frozen grape accoutrement and a nice touch of chicha morrada upon arrival. Then you can opt for a pisco sour with purple potatoes for the second round, because everyone knows that’s just a veggie platter in disguise. Mer.
I won’t bore you with extraneous details. Wander over the Williamsburg bridge, sit your ass down at the bar, start with a nice refreshing cocktail, then immediately bring the burrata onto the premise, and experience a flavor explosion go down. Purple potatoes with a nice little crisp, peanuts, huacatay (Peruvian mint), green garlic, the freaking works.
Also, get the quinoa salad with banana, avocado, cashews and bacon. I removed the bacon but I feel like a new creature having experienced eating banana in my salad. Yes, next level.
Sorry this picture looks ratchet AF. I wasn’t about to start photographing my raw fish with flash from 13 different angles at the bar here on a Saturday night. IDK. I just wanted to give you a little peep. But it’s really a trust thing. And I’m telling you to get aquainted with the ceviche and the tiradito and I would never lie to you.
The chocolate sorbet dessert situation is crucial.
Obviously go here. Sit at the bar. Grab a cocktail, or four and start tearing up the menu. The menu is simple, broken down into veggie, fish, meat, anticuchos, and large dishes (two). Prices are fair, ranging from $12 to $52 (massive beef stir fry).
I’ll be back shortly. Merci.
Llama Inn, 50 Withers Street, Brooklyn