A Talk with Jose del Castillo from Isolina

José del Castillo, the youngest of four siblings, was raised in the bustling kitchen of La Red, a restaurant managed by his mother for over four decades. This early exposure to the culinary world laid the foundation for his deep-rooted love for cooking and his unwavering commitment to preserving the legacy of Peruvian cuisine. 

After trying other fields, he discovered that cooking was his true passion; he tried several careers, but he was destined to keep alive his mother’s legacy and that of all those who have contributed to what Peruvian cuisine is today. We met at the new location of Isolina, this brand-new and well-appointed restaurant in Surco on Av. El Polo at number 605. 

Many times, I have gone to eat alone at the Barranco restaurant, and I sit at a high bench at the table facing the column; José smiles when I tell him that this is my favorite table. We met in a private room and sat face-to-face as in a police station; it was my opportunity to ask questions and satisfy some doubts. He responded kindly and took me through an extensive journey of his biography, which I enjoyed as a child. 

We talked about his mother, siblings, and daughter; we spoke of his friends, and he told me about his relationship with other cooks. He joyfully referred to his current team and many who have accompanied him in the kitchens. He did all this with the respect and admiration he felt for each of them. 

I’ve always been curious to know if Peruvian cooks yell in the kitchen as they do in movies or TV series; he laughed and said they don’t do it, not because they don’t want to, but because cell phones have cameras. 

After we laughed for five minutes, we talked about how the work methods have changed since he began. “Cooks do tough work, and while we must always strive for excellence, there’s no time for shouting.” 

Of course, I asked him if awards keep him up at night, and he said no. He said he already enjoyed the rewards of recognition and is now happy knowing he can give his daughter the opportunity to train for the future. Nevertheless, he continues to do the work as it should be, believing that the best reward he receives is when someone comes up to him and says, “This dish reminded me of my grandfather” or “This other one was my mother’s favorite.”

We concluded the conversation, and I left with a new image of José that had nothing to do with what I had read about him; to me, he is a guardian who protects and promotes Peruvian gastronomy with humility, someone who respects his origins and his family above fame or public recognition. 

The chef had another meeting, so fate rewarded me again; I ended up sitting at a table that, like the Isolina in Barranco, is next to a column, and I immersed myself in memories, with a delicious plate of ceviche, a dish of stewed meat with white beans, and the sweetness of a large slice of crema volteada.