A strict definition of hipsters seems pretty elusive. In other words, I looked up “hipster” in Urban Dictionary and got bored after the first paragraph. Basically, hipsters exercising moderation can be super fashionable and seem to bring the world quirky, enjoyable things. Hipsters who go overboard tend to justifiably attract the wrath of the internet. Sibaris is a little lunch joint in Barranco that falls just to the right side of that fine line between “cool” and “too much.”
The restaurant is small, but it’s too blue to miss. Obviously, the front features mounted potted herbs and chalkboard signs. The walls inside are decked with dated pots and pans and the most useless glass containers I’ve ever seen. The tables have been re-painted turquoise, the chairs have clearly been repurposed to match, more or less. The whole interior is basically a series of Pinterest projects executed by somebody way more competent at Pinterest than me.
After reviewing their menu, which was literally printed on a piece of transparent paper screwed in between two squares of balsa wood, we picked out a good craft beer to get started. The craft beer was actually a nice surprise: It turns out Barranco in particular, and Lima overall, is starting to get into the craft beer craze. I’m super ok with that, since getting to have a quality IPA in Lima was a great way to alleviate a little homesickness.
In terms of food, Sibaris really killed it for me as a great light-lunch-and-beer place. Everything was appetizer-y, probably the highlight being the sort of deconstructed carpaccio “dip” served on a wooden board: I would go back just for that alone. Even the bread that the dip came with was lovingly buttered and toasted. Say what you want about hipsters, but they’ve got an eye for detail. We also got a round of what were essentially super fancy cheese and prosciutto quesadillas, which despite being simple in construction were made with quality ingredients, perfectly toasted, and – naturally – served on a wooden board too. We concluded with a mango ceviche, which cleverly used sweet potato chips instead of the totally mainstream chunk of boiled potato. This time it did come in an actual dish, but don’t worry: it was a blue porcelain wide-mouthed bowl that looked like it had been excavated from a river earlier the same day. Jokes aside though, the mango ceviche was summery and bright and a refreshing break from the traditional.
At the end of the meal, as if to exhibit some ironic self-awareness, the waiter brought our check over in an adorable and slightly difficult-to-open tin box. Watching Ivo wrestle with the little metal handle was the perfect cap to a really nice light lunch.