Cafe Inka

I’m very tempted to give this place just one star. I won’t, because I didn’t end up with food poisoning like I thought I would and there were two decent dishes out of the entire meal. Don’t let that fool you – out of the four of us, three of us agreed that this was the worst meal we’ve ever had in our lives. Let me explain.
While my parents were in town, I intended to take them to Lemon Tree (
) for some authentic Peruvian food. What I didn’t account for was the fact that the next day (today) was the Peruvian Independence Day, so it was jam packed. Since we’d driven right by Inka, I figured it couldn’t be that bad, so we headed over.
The décor was.. .loud. But fun. It reminded me of a grown up version of the Rain Forest Café. We were informed that they just received their liquor license the day before, we could order alcohol. Now, let me just clarify that this isn’t actually a Peruvian restaurant like you’d assume. It is a South American restaurant with an American twist. Nevertheless, when you have a restaurant called «Inka», perhaps you should pay homage to the region in which you took the name? No Pisco Sours?! A travesty. They did have Inca Cola, so I was happy. Their paltry five beer selection was disappointing to say the least and my mom’s margarita was all lemon/​lime juice. We sent it back for some actual alcohol to be put into the glass, but it came back just as weak.
We started off okay since the plantains and salsas were pretty traditional as far as South American food goes. I was really excited since I’d heard about all their different kinds of ceviches. Wow. I’m all about fusion food if it improves upon the original. But when you bastardize food with incoherent pairings, it is just unforgivable. The only ceviche that looks remotely appetizing was the Inka ceviche which is what we got. And it was a HUGE mistake. How so?
*It was a mix of shrimp (which is just not the best option for ceviche – it tends to get rubbery), white fish, and scallops. The shrimp were hard and chewy with no flavor. The fish had been marinating so long that it was actually rock hard. It was cooked so thoroughly that it had dried out. It was actually inedible. The scallops were the only things were salvaging, but they were tiny (about three centimeters across for each one). They served it in some kind of ice cream saucer which is just laughable. And the worst part? They put a bowl of crackers (blasphemy for any ceviche outside of Mexico) and some kind of weird cocktail sauce. It was actually inedible. My dad ate the shrimp, but swallowed them whole so he wouldn’t have to deal with the flavors. I ate all the scallops. The fish? I wouldn’t serve that to my worst enemy.
My actual dish was the tiradito. I actually thought that the fish was bad. As in, I was going to be violently ill in a few hours from digesting fish that had sat out in the sun too long. I tried dousing it in the aji sauce which helped since I no longer had taste buds. But the gag reflex had been invoked and I just couldn’t choke down more than two pieces. Again, inedible.
Now, for the okay parts. The hubby’s chicken empanadas were dry, but edible. They were served with a side of actual Peruvian potatoes/​fries that were actually pretty good. My mom’s anticuchos were paltry, but tasty. One per skewer though was not impressive. Nor was the lack of sausage since it was listed on the menu. The steak that my mom got was actually pretty traditionally cooked, but then it was served in such a style made me wonder if the chef had ever been to Peru. The meat was placed on top of a bed of rice (a big no-​no) and on the side were.. .wait for it.…McDonald’s style french fries. WHAT?! Yeah, I’m sorry, but where the hell did potatoes originate from?! Peru (or maybe Bolivia) and how many freaking types are there?! How the HELL can you serve McDonald’s style french fries in a South American restaurant? I was appalled.
I will say that our waiter did the best he could considering he could tell how unhappy we were. My dad can be quite vocal with his dissatisfaction and the waiter kept his composure the entire time. He even included a coupon for our next visit, though I can pretty guarantee that I’ll never step foot in this joint again.
For the rest of the weekend, my parents ragged on me about my awesome taste in restaurants since all I do is rave about the food in Houston. Yep, serves me right for bringing them to an unknown place. For me, this is up there as a contender for worst meal ever with Miyako (
) and the soapy sushi incident. And since we call my dad the human vacuum cleaner, it says a lot when he won’t finish his plate. I really hope that people don’t dine here and think that real South American food is this awful.

Growing and getting better daily, its the only place in Houston I’ve found to make anything near like the café cubanos I lived on in Miami. Makes me feel more at home, not to mention the growing menu and delightful sandwiches.
Next door, their restaurant has so many wonderful selections– from seven ceviches to the mariscada– my new favorite. It is a seafood medley of clams, mussels, shrimp, scallops, and calamari in a saffron and coconut milk soup– takes me back to sitting in Spain sipping on sangria– which they also have and plenty of it at Inka.
This is a must try and great for an evening out with friends.
And the café is wonderful, they make real cream sodas homemade pastries.

«Coffee, wine, cheese, and more» turned out to be… coffee and a half-​full pastry case. The leather furniture looked comfortable, but we didn’t feel like staying since we were the only people there and the barista was nervous and quiet. This café has only been open for a few weeks, so we will check back soon to see if there’s any progress on the «and more» front… the (bitter, watery) espresso drinks we got weren’t worth a repeat visit. The third star on this review reflects my hope that this will become a great spot.
We also scoped out the menu of the Inka restaurant (still under construction), but it was really hard to say what it will be like at this point. Lots of seafood. TBD.