Lima Floral, Covent Garden

My list of famous Peruvian exports is short. There's my childhood chum Paddington; my mate Deborah's ex-lodger, a snapper called Mario (who could now buy up all of Peru, never mind afford a London pad of his own) and operatic loungecore diva Yma Sumac (who some argue was born Amy Camus in Brooklyn and, so, doesn't qualify). Them, and pisco. Distilled from grapes, Peru's brandy-like national spirit has become increasingly popular in London's bars, as fickle trend-chasers trade mojitos and caipirinhas ("too TOWIE for words, hon") for pisco sours. The classic lime-laced recipe (£8.50) is present and correct in this new Peruvian restaurant's buzzy dark cellar bar, run - somewhat implausibly - by a jolly brave, jolly Estonian couple who had never ventured much beyond Tallinn before taking on the gig, they tell me. Other ideas tend towards the sweet and fruity: an orange and lemon-infused pisco, watermelon and apple Collins and Casi Peruano, a perfectly doable pisco slant on a negroni. The only drinks downer is when Mr Tallinn commends me his finest chilli pepper-infused pisco and strawberry martini (pictured). If my name was Chelseigh (20, nail technician from Charlton) and I was handed one to get me in the mood to splash out on a puce Rabbit, crotchless panties and nipple tassels at my first ever Ann Summers-at-home party, I'd probably rate this syrupy, cloying chilli horn-garnished sinner "lush." To my taste, it is more Lush as in high street purveyors of not-dope soap. Noticing I've left it left untouched, a dried-down, better, version presently appears. “Pisco" translates as “little bird”: bird-like appetites will make do with just one dish from a selection of muckle piqueos - Peru’s answer to tapas  Escabeche of paiche (an Amazon freshwater fish); zingy, fresh and flavoursome tuna and ginger ceviche in tiger’s milk, and anticucho - velvety, tender rare beef loin with chilli and corn puree (£10) - are hits. Roasted baby aubergine with cashew, cheese, coriander and cress might look pretty on the plate but, en la boca, suggests being a veggie may not be much fun in Lima, old bean. 

14 Garrick Street WC2E 9BJ 7240 5778 http://www.limafloral.com 

adapted from my review for www.squaremeal.co.uk

Aqua Shard, London Bridge

(Huh? You want to see pictures? Go buy a drink and see for yourself, cheapskate!) 

"EEEEH! I can't wait for you to take me up the Shard" squeals excited highest-high-rise-in-town virgin. "That could be a line from Carry on Cruising had that camp caper been set in a Vauxhall orgy room," I say. But 31 stories up, across the lobby from Oblix - "the restaurant that nobody is raving about" as ES mag's restaurant critic assassinated it - assassins and orgy rooms are the vibe I'm getting at Aqua Shard - all 1990s Manhattan power-tower, hard-edged, shiny-sleek-and-angular. So darkly lit is it by night, I expect to rub Armani shoulders with Patrick Bateman among the assembled suits . "The barmen have complained they can't see properly" says a staffer peering at me in the gloaming. "Pay them in carrots? Issue Davy lamps?" I offer, helpfully. Of course, what Patrick really came for, is a vista that reminds him of his old stomping ground. Londoners haven't yet grown as blasé as New Yorkers about  ogling their city, spread out like Toytown, from on high. I still get a thrill seeing London from its new breed of  sky-lounges. I do, however manage to keep my cool and not  point excitedly and whoop, as one Shardy novice does tonight, "Look! I can just about make out my Nan's street in West Ham." Not that I had a 'Nan', let alone one unfortunate enough to live in that exotic burb. I am marvelling at a Lilliputian Tower Bridge far below, all the while being schmoozed in one ear by Aqua S's chatty Neapolitan bar manager, a simpatico sort who can shoot the breeze about shit other than drinks, thankfully. But after 30 minutes, my throat now as dry as manager Manuel's hometown in July, I'm going American Psycho for a drink. Fortunately, I have no axe to grind with Signor Chattisimo's martinis. These killers are well worth the wait. Aztec Tinez, despite its dubious name, is a fine Olmeco blanco and chocolate tea bitters twist on a martinez. Top call at £14, old times revival, works too - unlikely as Tanqueray 10, olive grappa, green walnut liqueur, Benedictine, Kümmel, Tio Pepe and artichoke sound as glass-mates.  I'd unreservedly urge you to take yourself  yourself up The Shard - I imagine Ann Summers has a suitable toy - if only for a rinse and a butcher's. As for a loo with a view; pointing Percy at the porcelain and peeing on Peckham? Talk about piss elegance! That's a term I'd also apply to our patchy Mod Brit dinner. Let's just leave it at... tricksy....and too many ingredients fighting for attention on one plate, maybe?   

Level 31The Shard, St.Thomas St SE1 9RY 7478 0540 www.aquashard