Ceviche is cured to a clock. On a delivery app, the app owns the clock. Zayos gives it back.
Zayos lets a Miami Peruvian kitchen set fulfillment rules per dish, so ceviche can be pickup only inside a window you choose while pollo a la brasa runs delivery. Flat $499 to $699 a month per location, no commission. The diner pays $0.99 pickup or $2.99 delivery.
Free. About 60 seconds. No card.
Which Peruvian dishes survive a delivery bag, and which ones die in it?
Almost every Peruvian menu in Miami splits cleanly down this line, and a marketplace charges the same percentage on both sides of it while controlling the one variable that decides the outcome.
Travels well
- Pollo a la brasa. Rotisserie chicken holds heat in a box better than almost anything else on a Miami menu. This is the delivery workhorse.
- Lomo saltado. Wok dish, served hot, forgiving over 20 minutes as long as the fries ride in their own container.
- Arroz chaufa. Peruvian Chinese fried rice. Travels perfectly, reheats perfectly, scales to a family pack.
- Aji de gallina and seco. Stewed dishes are the most delivery durable food in the kitchen.
- Causa and papa a la huancaina. Served cold by design, so distance is not the enemy. Pack them cold and they arrive correct.
- Anticuchos. Skewers hold up. Send the sauce on the side and they are as good at home as at the counter.
Does not travel
- Ceviche. Cured to a time, not to a temperature. Twenty extra minutes in a bag changes the fish, and the guest blames the kitchen, not the driver.
- Tiradito. Sliced thin and dressed at the pass. It is a plate, not a package, and it will not survive a stacked delivery run.
- Leche de tigre. Best in the first minutes. Sell it as a pickup item or as a side with its own window, never on an open ended delivery.
- Chicharron de calamar. Fried seafood steams itself soft inside a closed container. Vented packaging helps, but time still wins.
- Jalea. A fried seafood platter is at its best for about ten minutes. That is a pickup product with a timer on it.
- Anything with a crisp you are proud of. If the texture is the point, the delivery window has to be yours to set.
Who owns the clock on a delivery order?
On a marketplace, the platform does. It decides the quoted time, whether your bag rides alone or third in a stack, and how long it sits on a shelf before a driver takes it. You accept the order and inherit a promise you did not make. For most cuisines that is annoying. For a cevicheria it is the whole business, because ceviche is cured to a time rather than cooked to a temperature, and a fish that was perfect at pickup is a different dish 35 minutes later.
A cevicheria that lists ceviche on a delivery app is outsourcing its reputation to a driver it will never meet.
So operators do one of two things. They hide the signature dish online and let the platform sell only the chicken, which trains the internet to think of them as a rotisserie. Or they list it, absorb the one star reviews, and pay 25 to 35 percent blended for the privilege. On your own site there is a third option: mark it pickup only, or allow delivery inside a radius you drew yourself, with a pickup window the kitchen sets. Same menu, different rules per dish, and the rules are yours.
Why is the sauce a revenue line and not a garnish?
Ask any polleria owner what brings a family back and you will hear about the sauces before you hear about the chicken. Aji amarillo, the green huacatay sauce, the house version nobody else makes the same way: that is the reorder driver. It is also the single most common thing missing from a delivery bag, and a missing sauce reads to the guest as carelessness.
On Zayos the sauces are named modifiers with their own prices and their own free portion counts, so they print on the kitchen ticket, they get packed, and the extra portions somebody wants are a line of revenue instead of a favor. A family pack that sells a whole bird, fries, salad and four sauces is one item with clear options, not a guessing game.
Miami adds a second layer here, because the city’s Peruvian rooms run from neighborhood pollerias to serious dining rooms doing Nikkei, the Japanese Peruvian cooking that made this cuisine famous outside Peru. Those rooms need a different online posture: reservations and dine in QR ordering rather than a delivery firehose, which is the setup on our fine dining page. Dine in orders carry a $0 service fee.
What does a Sunday at a polleria cost you on an app?
Sunday is family day, and Peruvian family tickets are big: a whole bird, fries, salad, chaufa for the table, sauces. That is where the percentage really bites, because a commission grows with the ticket while a flat monthly fee does not.
Modeled at 260 online orders a month and a $58 average ticket, that is $15,080 of online volume. At the 28 percent midpoint of the 25 to 35 percent blended range, the marketplace cost is about $4,222 for the month. Operator + Marketplace on Zayos is $599 flat, at any order count, and it includes Otter ingestion so DoorDash, Uber Eats and Grubhub tickets land on the same tablet as your direct orders. Those are modeled numbers from the inputs above, not a customer result. Run yours through the free AI report or the commission calculator.
Keep the apps for discovery. Somebody new to Doral should be able to find you on one. The point is that the fifteenth order from that same family should not cost you the same as the first. The wider setup for Peruvian and other Latin kitchens, including party trays and Spanish language discovery, is on the Latin restaurants page.
What does it cost, and who is running it today?
Operator is $499 a month per location, Operator + Marketplace is $599 and adds Otter ingestion, and Concierge is $699 with up to five virtual brands out of one kitchen. Per location, month to month, no setup fee, no commission at any volume. The diner pays a flat service fee at checkout, $0.99 pickup, $2.99 delivery, $0 dine in and 10 percent on catering, and the restaurant keeps 100 percent of food revenue and 100 percent of tips. Full detail on pricing and what the diner pays.
One restaurant is live and taking orders on Zayos today: Naya Grill, in Pompano Beach and West Palm Beach, which keeps $48k+/yr that used to leave as marketplace commission at roughly 3,000 orders a month. Seven more storefronts are built and open ordering at their own launches.
There is no Peruvian restaurant on the platform yet. We would rather say so than invent a cevicheria that does not exist.
Questions Peruvian owners in Miami ask.
Can I sell ceviche online without ruining it?
What does a delivery app cost a polleria at Peruvian ticket sizes?
How do the aji sauces work as modifiers?
Can one kitchen run a cevicheria and a polleria menu at once?
What happens on Fiestas Patrias and other big community weekends?
My customers are spread from Doral to Kendall. How do I handle delivery?
Is there a Peruvian restaurant on Zayos today?
Find out what Sunday is really costing you.
The free report runs your own order count and average ticket against a flat monthly fee, and shows the gap over a year. No card.