Sometimes I wonder whether the world of fine dining still has a purpose. Whether the long hours at a table and the endless succession of small bites has simply become a trend or whether it still has a meaning, a reason to exist. What is the aim, what is the end goal? Is it to showcase a chef’s unique blend of creativity and technique, or is there more to it? And if so, what more?
I found a reply to this question across the world, in Peru, between Lima and the Valle Sagrado, where I discovered a culinary ecosystem which has not only a reason to exist but a clear mission to actively contribute to the environment in which it operates. A cuisine which starts and ends outside the kitchen: in the earth, in the communities, in the history of its land and in the wisdom of its ancestors. It’s the culinary project of leading Peruvian chefs Virgilio Martínez and Pía León, but it is much more than that.
The duo’s restaurants – Central, Kjolle, MIL – have a common thread, a research branch called Mater, or what they refer to as the “brain” of their gastronomic ecosystem. Founded in 2013 together with Malena Martínez (Virgilio’s sister who has a background in medicine and nutrition), Mater is a transdisciplinary organistion that connects knowledge through research, interpretation and cultural expression. It began as scientific research center focused on exploring Peru’s biodiversity and ecosystems, enriching the concept of Central (n°1 in the The World’s 50 Best restaurants in 2023), and today it is the backbone of all Restaurants, driving their unique food identities and covering different Peruvian territories, from Amazonia to the coast and to the Andes. If it were possible to describe organisations with adjectives, I’d say Mater is curious and humble: it doesn’t pretend to know everything, on the contrary, it is continuously looking outside, involving a wide range of (often academic) experts, spanning many differente disciplines, from anthropology to art or food engineering. Its learning approach is truly 360-degrees and, like one of its most recent exhibitions called Hilos (or “threads”), Mater weaves all these different threads together into a unique and powerful message.
A restaurant today, especially in the fine dining world, cannot exist in a vacuum. It has to think of itself as a small part, as a piece of a microcosm, as the end point of a collaborative supply chain which involves innumerable products and people, starting at the raw ingredient and ending with the waiter at your table. Because the act of placing a plate is more than a movement: it has a meaning and it tells a story, and behind every plate, there is a world to discover.
MIL is a Virgilio Martínez’s unique and fascinating restaurant, located at 3.568m above sea level in the Valle Sagrado, about an hour and a half from Cusco, the ancient capital of the grand Inca Empire. On the outset it is a simple structure made with the local construction methods, adobe walls (clay and sand mixed with straw) and a thatched roof (made from “ichu” in Quechua, the local language), and it would be easy to miss if one didn’t know to look out for it. Once you step inside, though, you realise you’re in a special place: a mix between a research lab, an art exhibition and restaurant.
Along the walls are dry flowers hanging on threads which make you feel like you’re walking through the pages of a botanical catalogue; vases and bottles colour the shelves along the corridors which contain both successful and unsuccessful experiments, neatly labelled and kept as a library to wonder through, but also a database to draw on for next attempts. The table at the entrance (called “Mater table” and by now a “signature” of the Chefs), showcases the local ingredients that are used in the restaurant: it is a visual inventory divided clearly in a didactical way for people to understand where they are and what they are going to eat – because this is more than just a meal.
The structure is more open than closed, with a central courtyard that brings in light and air, creating a natural harmony between the inside and the outside. At its center is a small square garden with a peculiar and unknown tree called queñual (polylepis spp), with thin layers of trunk gently peeling down its core. Virgilio explains that the Inca’s used to use these peels as paper to write on, and that this one is one of the few trees left due to biodiversity loss over the years.
Established in 2018, MIL is a deliberate convergence of nature, history and intention. It is located next to Moray, an archaeological Inca site which dates back approximately to the XII-XIV century, and which is believed to have been an agricultural laboratory where the Incas experimented with different crops and growing conditions. Similar to an amphitheatre, it has concentric terraces which create microclimates, with temperature variations between levels that allowed the Incas to test and adapt crops for different environments, and, for example, on different soils. Moray showcases the Incas’ advanced understanding of agriculture, engineering, and ecology, making it one of the most fascinating remnants of their civilization. And not by chance, MIL looks out onto it, almost as a form of deep respect, and maybe also as a source of inspiration.
Whether one believes in any form of spirituality or not, this place has something to it. The altitude, the surrounding mountains, the way the light falls, the remoteness of it all is simply magic, in the best possible meaning of the word. These mountains have been and continue to be populated by strong and close-knit communities since thousands of years, despite the difficulties associated with living at such altitude and so remotely. Andean societies are unique in so many ways and some of their beliefs and practices are still deeply embedded in indigenous (pre-Inca) traditions, such as by the guiding principle of Ayni, something which once discovered you won’t be able to forget – ever. The word Ayni comes from Quechua and means “reciprocity” or “mutual exchange”. It reflects the idea that everything in life is interconnected, and that people should help one another, knowing that the favour will eventually be returned. It’s spiritual, yes, but also extremely practical: if I help you thatch your roof today, I know that the next time I need help, you will help me harvest my potatoes. It’s not a quid-pro-quo, it’s a cooperative model of life, likely born out of a deep necessity, and now beautifully engrained, unquestioned and adhered to by all.
The principle of Ayni, in a way, extends beyond humans, as it includes a reciprocity with nature too: towards the Pachamama, the mother earth, and the Apus, the mountains, considered sacred protectors. Andean communities rely on the land for their subsistence, farming mostly staple crops such as potatoes, quinoa, corn, and oca, many of which were first domesticated by the Incas. Corn is also the base ingredient of chicha – a traditional fermented corn drink and another pillar of Andean society which has been consumed for thousands of years. In fact, it is also more than just a drink: it holds deep social and cultural significance, and it plays a central role in festivities, celebrations and social gatherings, but also accompanies the long days of hard and tiresome work in the fields or in the salt mines in nearing Maras. The chicherías (informal home-run taverns) are places where people gather to drink chicha, share stories, and discuss community matters. (An ancestral Peruvian form of the Pub? Maybe!) A red flag hanging outside the door indicates that the chichería is active and open to receive, and they are typically run by women, just as the chicha is traditionally made by women. While the process of making chicha is quite standardised, each makes it with their own little twist, for example with different lengths of fermentation, resulting in lower- or higher-gradients of alcohol content. Before taking a sip of chicha, it is traditional to pour a small amount to the ground, in honour and thanks to the Pachamama, mother earth which has provided the corn, while other small amounts of chicha are flicked with two fingers towards each of the Apus, the protector mountains surrounding the plane (they each have a name). This simple yet fundamental ritual summarises the deep connection that these communities share with nature.
For centuries, these practices and customs such as ayni and chicha have been essential to the social, cultural, and spiritual life of the communities. However, they are increasingly at risk of being lost. Modern influences, urban migration, and the declining interest among younger generations have caused a gradual distancing from them. Traditional knowledge, often passed down orally through generations is not always being preserved, leaving these rich cultural expressions vulnerable. And this is one of Mater’s missions – to capture and preserve the vast knowledge and heritage of its land.
This is one of Mater’s missions – to capture and preserve the vast knowledge and heritage of its land.
The MIL experience, as I mentioned, is not an ordinary one. You don’t arrive and eat. You listen, you learn, you ask, you reflect, and then… you eat. The “immersion routes” that Mater has developed allow you to do exactly what the name says: to immerse yourself in the ecosystem, for example in the botanical route around the restaurant. Based on ancestral (and undocumented) knowledge, a local guide from the Mullak’as Misminay or K’acllaraccay neighbouring communities walks along the botanical route pointing out dozens of different plants and how they are used. One is for headaches, another is for stomach aches, some plants are only for external treatment because venomous if ingested, and a cactus-like plant reveals a thread when pinched at the top which can be slowly pulled out and used to sow. The varieties that grow here are completely new to the common visitor and the knowledge that locals hold is fascinating.
When getting to know a new culture, it’s paramount to enter on tiptoes, with an open mind, a deep awareness and respect. The Mater team has approached it this way from the very beginning, working with experts such as anthropologists on the ground who “function as translators, connectors but also as readers” – says Malena Martínez, the Director of Mater – The Mater immersion projects, in fact, are co-created with the communities themselves, over long periods of time, in order to preserve their authenticity, with the awareness that even authenticity changes and adapts over time.
“In the end, we are intervening in their economy – Malena explains – so we need to be aware that it has a lot to do with their social dynamics, with how they move as a family unit, with how they project their future across generations. The hope is that the younger generations can return with fresh eyes after their studies and see that there are still opportunities and that there is value”.
At the core of Mater’s mission is also the empowerment of women within these communities. In the Warmi route, another immersion which has just started after years of research and conversations with the community, you are taken up to the K’acllaraccay community to spend several hours with a group of warmi, or “women”: you share chicha, munch on coca leaves and taste a daily snack of different types of potatoes and beans, at almost 4.000 meters above sea level, with a breathtaking view over the whole valley. But again, it’s not just about food: the warmis also teach you how to manually thread yarn (whilst walking, for the faster learners and multitaskers), and they show you how to dye the yarn with the natural dyes, harmonious colours in syntony with the land. A day with the warmi women is as magical as the place itself. It feels like stepping out of time and space, reconnecting with the most basic and beautiful elements of human existence and nature and being filled with gratitude towards these strong and powerful women.
In Anccoto, on the way to MIL, is another of Mater’s projects, one of the most recent ones. It’s a project focused on nutrition and education within the local pre-school (the “Nido”) of the Mullak’as Misminay community. In partnership with the Institute of Nutritional Research (IIN) and the International Potato Center (CIP), Mater implemented a bio-garden of vegetables, legumes, Andean grains, roots and tubers next to the school. Beside the classroom, the team also set up a new kitchen aimed at improving the school lunches and ensuring a good nutritional value for every meal, making up for health deficiencies that the children can suffer from, simply by living at such altitudes. Finally, a well-stocked library with educational kids books was added to the classroom so that the children, who often don’t have books at home, can borrow them and exchange them regularly. The project is coordinated on the ground by Ronald Yucra, one of Mater’s anthropologists, who receives a tsunami of hugs every time he steps into the preschool.
As a transdiscplinary entity, Mater also works in the agricultural space by collaborating with local farmers, agronomists and experts, promoting sustainable practices that honour the land and its resources. Just outside MIL a small weather station was installed which collects climate data to analyse changes in Moray’s atmospheric dynamics over the past 40 years. With a worsening climate crisis affecting these areas just as much as others, this tool will be essential for the Andean communities to combat food insecurity in the years to come. These initiatives underscore Mater’s commitment to a holistic approach, where food, people, and the planet are inextricably linked. Another important and extremely relevant project which Virgilio started when he was developing his vision of gastronomy at Central, is that of discovering and mapping Peru’s immense biodiversity, not only in the Andes but also in the rest of the country.
Malena explains that “In an effort to make more information more accessible, we create ethnobotanical and fibres catalogues which we have learned are really important. In the latest project we are working on, we don’t talk about gastronomy, we don’t talk about edible food, we only talk about the primary ingredients”.
Mater’s work extends outside of the Andes and the Valle Sagrado. Their research continues in different territories and informs all Restaurants, and the concept of the “immersion” is now also possible at the OG restaurant, Central. For example, with a tour of the experimentation garden – an ecosystem with plants from the coast, the Andes and Amazonia – or in the the creative lab space on the first floor, above the Restaurant, where one can do a two-hour immersion (which sounds like a lot, but which flies by in a hot minute) about the Theobromas, the genus that includes cacao. From raw ingredient to final bar of chocolate, it’s eye-opening to learn that cacao is just one of many local varieties and that one of its cousins, the copoazù, actually has a delicious citrusy taste.
Finally, as a closing thread, Mater’s transdisciplinary ecosystem also plays an active and growing role in Arts & Culture. By curating art exhibitions, the NGO amplifies the voices and artistic traditions of local communities, intertwining art, culture and biodiversity and helping bridge the gap between ancient practices and contemporary audiences. With the Maras K’ampa association in the Valle Sagrado, for example, a group of women weave basketes and other objects from the dried corn husks. These products, on top of being commercialised in an effort to empower the local women and to support their economic independence, are showcased in Mater’s exhibitions. The Hilos (“Threads”) Exhibition inaugurated last year connects and combines a number of artistans, techniques and materials from diverse backgrounds – each element meticulously crafted with distinctive materials such as Amazonian palm fibers, cactus threads (which we saw in the botanical route), clay, dyed wool, or the corn husk mentioned above. On top of its showcase in Lima, a few blocks from Central, The Hilos Exhibition has become itinerant, bringing its work around the world to Seoul, El Cairo, Turin, and Johannesburg. The cultural significance of this is important: putting a warmi loom in the other side of the world not only bridges cultures and tells the story of Peru’s rich cultural and artistic heritage, it also sends a strong message to the artists – that what they do is valued.
Among different artowrks in the Hilos Exhibition, is a reproduction of the Huatia. Hautia is the name of a dish but also of a traditional Peruvian technique of cooking potatoes and tubers in an earthen oven constructed with clumps of soil or stones to form a dome-shaped structure. A fire is built inside the dome until the stones or soil are extremely hot and once the fire dies down, the raw potatoes are placed inside. The structure is then broken down, burying the potatoes in the hot earth. So when – while sitting at MIL, overlooking the Apus in the distance, and enjoying what is already a delicious meal – a representation of the Huatia is placed in front of you, you immediately understand that this is not just a dish. These seemingly simple potatoes are linked – like with a thread – through a history of time and space, through the land and communities of the Andes, through the research of Mater and the kitchens of MIL – all the way back to you. The Huatia contains a story, or better said, a history.
Mater, created by Virgilio, Pía, and Malena, is much more than a culinary research project: it is a living archive of Peru’s natural and cultural wealth, and a connecting thread between all its moving parts.
