RESTAURANT REVIEW : Peruvian <i> Papas</i> and Seafood

The name’s not always the thing. Take Juan Clarke, for example. Clarke, otherwise known as Don Juan, is a native-born Peruvian. An ancestor from England left the Clarke name behind several generations ago, as he happily explains . . . in Spanish.

English is simply not spoken at Don Juan’s, a restaurant specializing in Peruvian cuisine and seafood. Cafe might be a better word than restaurant , though, at least in terms of size. Seating consists of a few narrow booths with hard seats and unadorned Formica table tops. Face the door and you get to watch Spanish-language television on an overhead set; face the kitchen and there are a few tropical fish swimming around in a tiny tank for your viewing pleasure.

Really, the only Peruvian atmosphere is furnished by a series of aerial photographs of touristic sites such as Lima, the beach at Agua Dulce and the Plaza San Martin, a generic South American square complete with heroic statue. None of this seems to daunt the Peruvians who frequent the restaurant, of course. These people are here to eat their native cuisine, an edifice of Inca and Spanish influences built upon Peru’s best-known export, the potato.

Potatoes--whole, stuffed, fried and pureed--are served with practically everything here. You can begin a meal with papa rellena, something akin to an American twice-baked potato. The kitchen hollows spuds out, then stuffs them with a ground meat mixture rich with olives and raisins.

I like them best when smeared up with aji, Peru’s sensational green garlic salsa. Don’t bother asking Clarke or his wife what’s in it. This aji is homemade, and even if you speak fluent Spanish they won’t divulge their recipe.

Or you could order papas a la Huancaina, literally “potatoes cooked in the style of the city of Huancayo,” a classic dish from northern Peru. This is whole boiled potatoes blanketed in a rich sauce of cheese, cream, chiles and olive oil. The sauce ends up being more like mayo than cheese sauce. Think of it as an exotic potato salad, and for goodness’ sake, don’t eat it all.

If you do you won’t put a dent in the main course dishes, many of which appear handwritten on a blackboard above the cash register, rather than on the regular menu. Notice that the Clarkes have marked their favorites with little red stars, and that the names of several dishes are not translated into English. Bring a dictionary, or better yet, a translator.

Cau cau de mariscos is one good one. This dish is really a stew of prawns, squid and (what else?) potatoes in a piquant sauce of tomatoes, peas, rice and spices. Asado con pure y arroz is even better. This asado consists of two big pieces of braised brisket, plopped in the middle of a giant platter of mashed potatoes. There must be a pound of butter in these potatoes, and an unmentionable number of garlic cloves. I told you these people took their potatoes seriously.

Don Juan’s bills itself as a seafood restaurant, even if seafood doesn’t actually dominate the menu. Peru also gave the world ceviche, and Don Juan’s ceviche mixto of raw snapper, squid and shrimp is a triumph, served with plenty of salsa criolla (vinegared onions and parsley).

There are many ways to eat your fish here: grilled, en brochette, in soup or in salad. Anticuchos de camarones are big, garlicky prawns brushed with butter and broiled on wooden skewers. The mysterious-sounding caldo de choros is a rich mussel soup.

I must say, those potato-loving Peruvians can make even fish dishes come out heavy. Escabeche de pescado is snapper and onions marinated with vinegar and spices and served with two starches, yuca and sweet corn. Personally, I’d prefer something simpler such as pescado frito con arroz, your basic fried fish served with a fragrant mound of rice.

Peru is no slouch when it comes to dessert, either. Picarones are sensational hot pumpkin-flour fritters that look exactly like the South Indian lentil fritters known as vadai. The Clarkes serve their picarones in a light syrup made with acacia honey. Panqueque and alfajor make use of crema de leche, a condensed milk confection heavy with brown sugar. Panqueque is a pancake (surprise) with the crema smeared on top, and alfajor is a layered shortbread cookie, with the crema sandwiched in between.

Suggested dishes: ceviche mixto, $8.49; anticucho de camarones, $8.49, asado con pure y arroz, $7.99, desserts, $3.50.

Don Juan’s, 12515 Victory Blvd . , North Hollywood, (818) 763-1279. Lunch and dinner 11 a.m.-8 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday. Parking lot. Beer and wine only. American Express, MasterCard and Visa accepted. Dinner for two, $15-$30.