Restaurant: The Hummingbird
Location: 1600 N Alvarado St, Los Angeles, CA 90026 | (213) 484-0340
Date: September 19, 2025
Cuisine: Peruvian
Rating: A Nikkei Feast for the Ages!
It’s been years since Ricardo Zarate cooked in Los Angeles. The pioneering Peruvian chef—who put Mo-Chica and Picca on the map, earning a spot on Jonathan Gold’s legendary Top 101 list multiple times—left town after shuttering his restaurants. But now he’s back, and his tiny new spot, The Hummingbird, sits in Echo Park on Alvarado, in what might be the worst parking nightmare I’ve encountered in months. Almost impossible. Plus, there’s live music playing right next to my ear. But you know what? None of that mattered once the food started arriving.
Ricardo is one of the great Nikkei chefs, that fascinating fusion of Peruvian and Japanese cuisine that emerged from Peru’s large Japanese diaspora. His food is vibrant, citrus-forward, with the precision and delicacy of Japanese technique married to the bold, sunny flavors of Peru. And at The Hummingbird, he’s cooking in the smallest kitchen you’ve ever seen—this white-tiled open galley with a disco ball, anime murals, and magenta lighting. It’s like a fever dream, and it’s totally awesome.
This tiny new Ricardo Z restaurant has the worst parking ever—almost impossible—and live music (right next to my ear).
This is the entire kitchen!
We came loaded for battle. My friend Jeff brought uni. AND caviar. Because when Ricardo Zarate is cooking, you bring the good stuff.
Jeff brought uni.
AND caviar!
**Corn nuts.**
The meal started with a family-style **guacamole** situation—balsamic-marinated cherry tomatoes, cotija, crispy “cuerito” toast—that set the vibe: bold, fun, communal. This was going to be a feast.
Family style guacamole, balsamic-marinated cherry tomatoes, cotija, crispy “cuerito” toast.
Then came the **Nikkei hand rolls**, and holy hell, these were fantastic. The first: **scallop, tobiko, wasabi-jalapeno**. Bright, briny, with that wasabi-jalapeno kick that makes you sit up straight. Totally excellent.
Nikkei hand roll: scallop, tobiko, wasabi-jalapeno.
Nikkei hand roll: crab, avocado, cucumber, crispy rice.
Nikkei hand roll: Salmon, lemongrass, aioli, negi.
The **”tostada” for ceviches** was a clever touch—edible vessels for the bright, acidic Peruvian classics to come.
“Tostada” for ceviches.
Stripped bass ceviche, aji amarillo, tiger’s milk, cancha choclo Peruvian corn. Damn good. The citrus was bright and punchy, the fish impeccably fresh, the corn adding that textural pop.
Another ceviche, this one arriving in a glowing sunset-orange broth—citrus-charged with flecks of cilantro, bronzed cancha, ivory choclo, a tangle of amethyst-red onion and a sliver of ají limo. Saline brightness and ripe citrus with ají’s fruity heat that blooms then recedes. Really quite excellent.
avec uni.
Blue prawn aguachile, avocado, serrano, leche de tigre (Jeff added the uni). Because of course he did. Beautiful, fresh, electric with heat
Do Ferreiro “Cepas Vellas” Albariño 2018 from Rías Baixas, Spain. Old-vine Albariño with that saline minerality and citrus peel brightness that’s perfect for ceviches. The classic dark-green Bordeaux bottle and “Cepas Vellas” designation mark this as Gerardo Méndez’s flagship—textbook pairing for the citrus-forward seafood.
Yellowtail ceviche tostada, serrano, avocado, soy-ginger yuzu dressing. The Nikkei flavors coming through stronger here—soy and yuzu adding umami and a more subtle acid profile compared to the straight Peruvian leche de tigre.
decorated again by jeff.
Champagne Deutz Rosé 2012. Vintage rosé from one of the great Champagne houses, Pinot Noir-led with that classic rose-gold Deutz livery. A millésimé rosé with enough structure and depth to handle the progression from seafood to meat. Classy.
Crispy-skin salmon salad, avocado, serrano, mixed herbs salad, trout roe. That crackling skin against the herbaceous salad and cool avocado—textural masterclass.
Crispy rice nigiri: not sure which variant but probably tuna seared with avocado, aji ashes, soy glaze. The rice shatters, the tuna is plush, the aji ashes add this smoky-earthy dimension. Yum.
Zingy sauce.
Plate of mains.
Now we moved into the heavy hitters. Jeff had brought a **tomahawk**, and Ricardo was all too happy to cook it. The result was a beast: thick slices of ribeye glowing a gentle rose beneath an ember-dark crust, flanked by pearlescent lobster tails and coral-shelled shrimp slicked with butter. The beef had that deep mineral savor, the lobster was satin-soft with oceanic salinity, the shrimp snapped cleanly with a briny perfume. Surf and turf at its finest.
**Tomahawk** that Jeff brought.
**Giant prawns.**
**Fries.**
Rigatoni pasta, tomato ragu, parmesan. Simple, comforting, deeply satisfying. Not everything needs to be fancy.
Herb salad.
Chef Ricardo, fresh from the line.
Quilceda Creek Cabernet Sauvignon 2010, Columbia Valley, Washington. The black label with gold-foil mountain motif announces one of Washington’s iconic producers, and this 2010—at 15.2% ABV—delivered the concentrated, ripe Cabernet fruit and structured tannins that pair beautifully with ribeye. A serious wine for a serious steak.
Wine with dinner.
Dessert was a riot of textures and sweetness. **Chocolate quinoa pudding** with poached berries—dark, rich, with the quinoa adding this nutty, slightly chewy dimension. And then **picarones**: kabocha squash and sweet potato beignets, anise-scented, served with housemade fig syrup and pistachios. These were revelatory—light, airy, with that wonderful squash sweetness and the aromatic warmth of anise. The fig syrup was sticky and profound, the pistachios added crunch. I couldn’t help myself and ate way too many.
Chocolate quinoa pudding, poached berries.
Picarones (beignets), kabocha squash, sweet potato, anise, housemade fig syrup, pistachios.
Ricardo Zarate is back, and Los Angeles should rejoice. The Hummingbird is tiny, cramped, loud, and impossible to park at—but the food is absolutely stunning. This is Nikkei cooking at its finest: precise, vibrant, layered, and deeply soulful. The ceviches sang with citrus and heat, the crudo was a revelation, and the surf-and-turf extravaganza was one of the best meals I’ve had in months.
Yes, the parking is terrible. Yes, there’s live music blasting in your ear. But none of that matters when Ricardo is in the kitchen, cooking with the same fire and creativity that made him one of LA’s most important chefs. The Hummingbird is a triumph. Go. Bring uni. Bring Champagne. Bring your appetite.