Puerto 511 Cocina Peruana owner Jose Victorio Alarcon made a name for himself cooking fine Peruvian food but always dreamed of owning a second spot celebrating Peruvian street food, namely the empanada.

That dream became reality in 2019 when he opened his beloved Andina. So it was particularly painful when he lost Andina in a divorce settlement. He turned his full attention back to Puerto 511, until a chance visit to a food court convinced him that he should make another go of it.

“I was with my girlfriend, Patricia, in this nice food court,” he says. “They had empanadas, so I ordered two. I was so disappointed—they were greasy and only had ground beef in them. I told my girlfriend, ‘When you try my empanadas, you’ll see the difference.’”

Not long after, Alarcon made a batch of the half-moon-shaped specialty he grew up eating in his home country. “When Patricia tried it,” says Alarcon, “she said, ‘You need to look for your own place—this is delicious.’”

Months later, while walking in Fells Point, he strolled past an empty storefront that formerly housed Sofi’s Crepes. For Alarcon, the brick-lined alley with outdoor tables offered a quiet charm. Last May, he decided to make his dream come true and opened Empa511 (the number is the country code for Peru).

“There was no kitchen, but Puerto opens at 5 p.m. and my cook starts at 3 p.m. The kitchen is empty in the morning, so we prepare everything at Puerto 511 and assemble and bake them on-site.”

Tell me what makes your empanadas special?
I make everything, including the dough, from scratch using my grandmother’s recipe. They’re not fried, they’re baked, and they’re slightly sweet—and none of the fillings are ground. I have huge pieces of chicken, pork, and steak. Everything is chopped and we make them daily, using Peruvian chiles—ají amarillo, ají rocoto, ají panca.

Do you have a favorite type of the seven you sell?
The Huachana is my favorite. It has pork, caramelized onion, and scrambled egg. I remember when my mom made them for breakfast in Peru.

Puerto 511 is more fine-dining. Is it fun for you to make Peruvian street food?
It’s the same flavor, but the price is more accessible.

What did you want the space to feel like?
I want it to smell good—we are always baking. I wanted it to feel minimalist. I also wanted to reduce plastic, so we don’t sell water, it’s free and the cups are compostable. The dishes are biodegradable. Reducing plastic and respect for the environment were important to me.

How did you learn to cook?
When I was a child, my mom always told me, you need to learn cooking so you have more opportunities in life. I studied business administration, but after three years, I didn’t feel very happy. I decided to go to cooking school. Before cooking school, I had never been outside my country. At school, I ended up winning an international competition. The kitchen changed my life.

Is there anything else you want us to know?
Empa511 is dog-friendly. I love dogs and have a Maltese-shih tzu mix named Dogman. He likes chicken empanadas.

Elisa Milan can never resist a challenge. So, in 2017, when a friend made her a bet that she couldn’t make money selling food—she was working in health care as a nurse licenser at the time but was a serious amateur cook—she took the bait.

“He knew that the best way to make me do something was to tell me that I couldn’t do it,” she says with a laugh. “So I did an empanada pop-up in his art gallery one night. I broke even, but I sold out. I realized I just needed to change the prices, and I’d be in the game.”

Milan sold her empanadas as a sideline, but by 2019, when her health care contract ended, despite a bad case of butterflies, the single mom decided to open her own business. Initially, Milan made the empanadas in her house and delivered them to clients with her young son in tow. In 2021, she moved to work in a commercial kitchen at Motor House in Charles Village, and more recently moved to 10 South Street in the Inner Harbor, where she expanded her operation into a full-scale restaurant, selling more than 1,000 empanadas a week.

Unsurprisingly, her restaurant is called The Empanada Lady, which is also how she’s known around town.

For Milan, making empanadas is a way for her to connect with her Puerto Rican ancestors. “I’m really spiritual,” says Milan. “Mixing the meat and adding the spices is very ritualistic. I joke that I’m working over my cauldron, and I am bringing in people from my family and generations of cooking with these spices. I honestly believe it’s why I’ve had some of the success I’ve had.”

Why did you decide to build your business around empanadas?
One of my earliest childhood memories is from when I was six. I adore my grandmother, Ramona, who was born in Puerto Rico. I just wanted to be around her as much as I could. Cooking in our family was a big deal. When we made empanadas, it was meant to be communal. It was, “You cut the dough, I’ll cut the pepper. You cook the beef. I’ll mince the garlic.” We’d come together as a whole and prepare one meal.

Where did the recipes come from?
Prior to opening the restaurant, they were not written down. When I hired my chef, Ericka Loyal, I didn’t even let her cook. Making empanadas is so sacred and personal for me, but then I was like, “If I’m going to have a business, someone else has to know how to make them.” Before that, it was always a joke that I just season them until my ancestors tell me to stop.

How are empanadas from Puerto Rico different from what you find in other countries?
The seasonings distinguish them. Puerto Ricans have certain spices that go in a traditional dish, like cilantro, garlic, and sofrito. Also, we fry them; some cultures bake them.

Tell me about the space itself.
All of the art is intentional. I. Henry [Phillips Sr.]’s photographs are in the space. [Baltimore-based Afro-Latina artist] Jaz Erenberg did the large black-and-white mural. The ceiling features umbrellas, which is a nod to a popular attraction in Puerto Rico with umbrellas suspended over a street in San Juan.

Years ago, when they were living in Chicago, Jose Victorio Alarcon and his wife, Connie, made empanadas from their native Peru. The hot pockets were so popular, they started a business out of their home, selling them to friends, neighbors, and people in their community. After a move to Baltimore in 2013, they opened Puerto 511 on Clay Street, but had always hoped to recreate the empanada business they had in The Windy City.

“People would try our empanadas,” recalls Victorio, “and they’d say, ‘Oh my God, this is so good.’”

So late last year, the couple found a light-filled storefront space on Lexington Street and named it Andina.

“The name comes from the name for women who live in the Andes and prepare the food,” says Victorio. “It reflects the culture and history of the women in Peru. It’s a name to honor Connie’s mother and my mother, who were born in the Andes.”

Here are three things to know before paying a visit to the shop, which is currently open for carryout.

Snack Time
Peruvian people eat empanadas as an after-work snack.

Getting Saucy
There are dunking options, including a traditional chimichurri and a sweet rocoto sauce.

Flavor Town
Fillings include sausage, chicken, steak, eggs, potatoes, and vegetables.