maciek macak
Google
Don Ceviche at Essex Market: A Love Letter with Conditions (Corn Redemption + Tiger’s Roar Edition)
Waltzed into Don Ceviche expecting seafood enlightenment. Left with a ceviche that’s still in therapy. Ordered the mixed ceviche with a side hustle of fried calamari and a purple corn juice that looked like it could headline a goth kombucha rave.
First sip of the juice, majestic. Hibiscus vibes with a confidence that says “I meditate, but I also party.”
The ceviche? Mixed, both emotionally and literally. Came with two types of corn: the white kind was good, clean, bright, behaving itself. Then its hardened cousin showed up, dried? Roasted? Just hard and chalky enough to make me check if I still had dental coverage. A real distraction from an otherwise solid dish.
What truly held the plate together was the leche de tigre. An impeccably bold trifecta of acidity, spices and heat—sharp enough to wake your palate, complex enough to make you pause mid-bite and reassess your life choices. It’s the kind of zing that doesn’t shout, it smolders.
The calamari? Like a rom-com supporting character, doesn’t demand attention but ends up stealing the show. Crispy, tender, and suspiciously perfect.
The service? So forgettable I briefly wondered if the register was run by AI. (No offense, I’d never ghost you like that.)
Seating is upstairs.
Would I return? Yes. I’m emotionally invested and curious, hoping that next time, the ceviche shows up with less corn, more seafood and the same thrilling tiger’s milk energy.