Coya Mayfair

Coya sits just off Piccadilly in a basement space that gives away nothing from street level, which is fairly typical of the brand’s approach: you find it because someone told you about it, not because you walked past and were drawn in. Inside, the room commits fully to a Latin American nightclub-restaurant hybrid, dim lighting, textured walls, a DJ presence that gets louder as the evening progresses.

The kitchen draws on Peruvian technique with Japanese and Chinese cooking methods folded in, a combination that sounds like marketing language until you taste the ceviche, which is genuinely well balanced between acid, heat and fish quality. Tiraditos are lighter and more delicate, and the anticuchos, skewered meat and fish grilled over charcoal, are where the kitchen shows the most confidence. Corn features heavily across several dishes, a proper nod to Peruvian pantry staples rather than the usual Latin American shorthand of chilli and lime alone.

Pisco sours here are made properly rather than as an afterthought cocktail, and the wider drinks list takes Peruvian spirits seriously rather than using them as a gimmick. Weekend brunch has become something of an event in itself, loud, boozy, and reliant on advance booking, with live music adding to a room that is already working hard to feel like a party rather than a quiet lunch.

The honest issue is that Coya sells atmosphere as much as it sells food, and the bill reflects both in equal measure. Portions on the small-plates format mean the total climbs quickly once you are sharing across a table of four or more, and service, while polished, can feel like it is moving you through a schedule rather than around your evening. Noise levels climb sharply once the DJ starts, so a table booked for quiet conversation is not really what this room is built for.

Go for the occasion rather than a quiet dinner; it delivers on spectacle more reliably than on value. A birthday, an anniversary, or simply a night when the point is to be seen suits Coya far better than a routine Tuesday dinner ever will, and it consistently delivers on that particular brief even when the cooking, while good, is not quite the headline act.