To Limeños, nothing goes with fresh fruit juice better than sandwiches, at dinner, or after dinner, or in the afternoon, or even in the morning. In fact, sandwiches don’t have to count as a meal in Peru, while it’s perfectly acceptable to call a pitcher of thick papaya juice “dinner.” Juice bars are everywhere, but it’s best to go to a reputable place, such as La Lucha, where you can trust the quality of the water used and the restaurant’s sanitation. It’s more expensive than your average hole-in-the-wall—though it’s still less than $3 for a freshly pressed mixed passion fruit, mango, and orange juice—but you pay for quality. For a Peruvian specialty, try the exotic lucuma “juice” with milk (more like a butterscotch-maple smoothie). And remember that in Spanish when you order “tuna” you’re actually ordering sweet prickly pear, not fish juice. The sandwiches made from giant hunks of rotisserie pork, chicken, homemade hot pepper, olive, and creamy golf sauces are also some of the least expensive and filling meals in the area.