Sampling the Peruvian Plate

Everywhere I travel in the world I make an effort to sample and learn of the local cuisine. A recent trip to Peru provided a smorgasbord of food that was diverse, healthy and ancient. Perhaps more famous for its Inca ruins and archeological wonders than its culinary allure, the Peruvian cuisine is largely undiscovered on the world stage. 

The food and cooking of Peru reflect a vast array of climates, as well as a variety of contact with other countries and cultures. This South American nation extends from the Pacific coast in the west to peaks that rise above 22,000 feet in the Andes Mountains to a lush rainforest in the Amazon jungle. 

From a historical point of view, Peruvian cuisine has been influenced by waves of immigrants from Europe, Asia and Africa. These influences coalesced with a rich diet already consumed by the Inca and other Indigenous groups.

I came to Peru with my daughter, Jenna, and everyday there was something new for us to try. Below I have made a list of nearly every dish, food or drink that we encountered that I felt was a part of the Peruvian culture.
 

Lomo Saltado.  If I were to pick one as the quintessential Peruvian dish, I would choose lomo saltado. It is colorful, tasty and simple. Like many other dishes, it has influences from around the world. It was first prepared by Chinese chefs living in Peru in the nineteenth century who decided to stir-fry marinated beef (brought from Spain) with onions and tomatoes. It is served with a side of rice and French fries (made from Peruvian potatoes). Lomo saltado is a dish that will probably never become world-famous like pizza or sushi, but it is one that I imagine is eaten often in many humble Peruvian homes.
 

Chicha Morada.  Chicha Morada is a non-alcoholic beverage made from purple corn, not to be confused with chicha de jora, a fermented drink, also known as corn beer. In addition to purple corn, it is boiled with pineapple rinds, quince, cinnamon, cloves and sweetened with sugar. It is cooled and served cold. This was a pre-Colombian drink, although I'm sure they used the ingredients they had at hand (cinnamon, for example, they did not have because it comes from southern Asia). Like so many other foods in Peru, purple corn is native to the Andes Mountains.
 

Emoliente.  This warm and comforting drink we found sold on the streets of Lima. The closest thing I can compare it to is apple cider, but with lots of herbs. The vendors at their carts usually had a large cauldron from which they cooked the beverage. The brew is cooked using barley, Andean horsetail, cat's claw, linseed, alfalfa, honey, quinoa and probably whatever else they want to use. The recipe can vary from person to person. It is claimed to have medicinal qualities that boost the digestive system and help with respiratory issues. For me it was very soothing.
 

Ceviche.  In Peru, ceviche is a very traditional dish that is prepared differently than it is in other countries. Extremely flavorful, it is powered with raw onions, peppers, hot sauce, and raw fish that marinates in lime juice. For texture it is served with both dry corn (cancha) and fresh corn. It is also served with slices of sweet potato. I enjoyed getting a bite with a chunk of fish, a dab of hot sauce, a slice of red onion and a piece of corn.
 

Sopa de trigo.  "Trigo" translates to wheat, corn, or more generalized, grain. However, in this situation it refers to barley. We ate this soup as a first course, but I'm sure historically it could have been used as a full meal. It is made with beef, barley and a variety of vegetables, including potato, carrot, zapallo squash, celery and parsley. There are plenty of varieties. Ours appeared puréed with the exception of potato chunks and a leafy green. From what I've read, sopa de trigo is not usually puréed.
 

Ají de Lizas con Pollo.  “Ají” pertains to the ají amarillo chili, which has its origins in the Andes Mountains. Although it appears red, it turns yellow when cooked. It is the base for many dishes and sauces. “Liza” is a reference to papa lisa, a tuber that also originates in the Andes. It looks like a speckled potato, but is yellow on the inside. Combining the ají with the papa lisa makes for a very yellow dish. When we ate it, we decided that it had a very “earthy” flavor that reminded us of beets.— The ají de lizas was served next to a scoop of rice and grilled chicken.
 

Picarones.  These are doughnuts made of sweet potatoes, covered in a molasses-like syrup. They are light, fluffy and crispy. We bought these from a street vendor in Lima. They were invented during the colonial period to replace buñuelos from Spain. As with many other dishes in South America, they substituted a local ingredient for something that was scarce. In this case it was sweet potatoes in place of flour.
 

Breakfast.  I will admit that I have no idea what the typical Peruvian eats for breakfast. But I do know that every morning we were served breakfast in our hotel, it was basically the same thing. To drink we were served fruit juice, warm milk, and some sort of tea such as chamomile. We were offered coffee but declined. In the middle of the table was a basket with four rolls, which were a cross between a baguette and a normal roll. There was also a plate of meat and cheese, a small bowl of jam, and balls of hard butter. The amount seemed perfect to make one meat and cheese sandwich, and one of jam.
 

Ají de Gallina.  This is a very delicious dish made yellow by using ají amarillo paste. Gallina is translated as “hen,” but any type of chicken breast will do. Other ingredients such as onion, garlic, pecans, Parmesan cheese, bread and evaporated milk are added to create a creamy stew. Ours was served over slices of boiled potato and next to a heap of rice and slices of tomato. For Jenna, this was her favorite dish she ate in Peru.
 

Alfajor.  This light and flaky confection is made of flour, honey and nuts. It was brought to Peru in the 1500's from Spain, who inherited it from the Moors, who inhabited parts of the Iberian Peninsula for nearly 800 years. The name is likely of Arabic origin. I'm sure there are several varieties, but the alfajores I've seen are like mini sandwiches, with a dulce de leche filling in the middle.
 

Alpaca a la Parilla.  Grilled alpaca. I will admit that this was the most disappointing food of the entire trip. Maybe I just got a bad serving. We were hungry and ate at a small restaurant in Ollantaytambo. It took them forever to get our food and we were the only customers. The steak was tough and had a unique taste to it. Not quite like a game animal, but similar. The texture was similar to that of a game animal—kind of chewy. It was also bland. Had to use lots of salt and pepper.
 

Anticuchos.  Anticuchos are the Peruvian version of kebabs. It is meat cooked on a skewer, and usually that meat is beef heart. It is Pre-Columbian, originating in the Andes. The name comes from the Quechua language. I thought they tasted pretty good and if I didn't know better I would have never guessed it was heart. I ate it with rocoto relleno on the side.
 

Rocoto.  Rocoto peppers grow in the cool, high landscapes of the Andes Mountains and are a bit more spicy than red bell peppers. Rocoto relleno (or stuffed rocoto) contains a filling of ground beef, garlic, onions, pepper, spices and whatever else the chef desires. It may be baked in the oven, although I think mine was battered and deep-fried.
 

Milhojas.  We found this pastry being sold at a street cart across the street from the Lima Peru Temple. It is made with several stacked layers of pastry puff, filled with dulce de leche and sprinkled with powdered sugar. We sat down on the grass and ate our delicious treat. Although milhojas originated in France, it is considered part of the cuisine in several other places including Spain, Peru and other Latin American countries.
 

Chaufa.  Chaufa is a fried rice dish that originated with the Chinese who settled in Peru in the nineteenth century. It is simple and inexpensive, usually consisting of rice, scallions, eggs, chicken and soy sauce. My experience eating chaufa was memorable. We ate it at a lone table off the side of a dirt road in the Peruvian Amazon, cooked by a lady named Dora. We enjoyed conversation and a glass of Coke while we ate our chaufa.
 

Inca Kola.  The national soda is undoubtedly Inca Kola. Interestingly, it was developed by a Brit who immigrated to Peru. Although it has a sweet fruity flavor similar to bubble gum, it is the lemon beebrush, native to South America, that gives the drink its unique flavor.
 

Pollo a la Brasa.  Probably my favorite thing I ate in Peru was Pollo a la brasa, or rotisserie chicken. It was tasty and tender. It was served with a mayonnaise sauce and ají verde chilli pepper sauces. The chicken is rubbed with spices and slowly cooked on a spit over coals or flame. Although you can find roasted chicken in many other countries, according to the internet, its roots are in Peru. I loved pollo asado in Spain with alioli sauce, but what I ate in Peru seemed to be a step up.
 

Sopa de Chuño.  Chuño is one of Peru's more fascinating specimens. It's a freeze-dried potato whose origins are in the high Andes of Peru and Bolivia. Traditionally the potatoes are spread on the ground where they are frozen by night and sun-dried by day. After a few days of this they are stepped on with bare feet. This allows for excess water to be squeezed out and detaches some of the peels so they come off easier. The drying process is repeated until all the water is gone. The dried potatoes are then rinsed in water and subsequently dried to create white chuño. If unwashed they are called black chuño.  

The final product can be stored for years and has been considered a staple in Andean cuisine. It can be ground into flour and used in soups, which is how I assume it was used in our dish. We ate it as a first course at San Blas Market in Cusco. I couldn't tell you everything that was in it, but it was very hardy, thick, and came with a couple chunks of potato and garnished with parsley.
 

Caldo de Gallina.  Throughout our two weeks in Peru I was eying one item that I saw on nearly every menu: caldo de gallina, or chicken broth. I knew it wasn't just broth because occasionally I would catch a glimpse of it and what I saw was a beautiful brothy, creamy, and hearty stew with a chunk of chicken and hard-boiled egg.⸺On our last night in Cusco I knew it was time to pull the trigger and see if it lived up to expectations. Well . . . they served it in a bowl where it looked as good as I'd hoped it would. In addition to the piece of chicken and hard-boiled egg, it came with spaghetti noodles and diced scallions. Everything tasted wonderful . . . except . . . that piece of chicken! Oh how I had high expectations for the chicken! I'm not even sure which part of the chicken it was, but either it had no meat, or the meat was so tough that it tasted like an old hen that can't lay eggs anymore and is slaughtered to eat (after all, gallina technically translates more specifically to “hen” instead of “chicken"). Oh, well. You can't win them all! Now I have an excuse to try it again or just make it at home. I think caldo de gallina has a lot of potential. ♠

Impressions of Cusco

Convent of Santo Domingo, built on the remains of the Inca temple of Coricancha.

The scene flying into Cusco was surreal. Mountains climbed closer to the airplane window with an occasional snow-packed peak and then a rugged valley with rushing water. But what impressed me most were the man-made terraces and villages perched high upon the slopes. People actually lived here! Farms were laid out in curious patchwork, each a different shade of green. Roads were sliced out along verdant inclines while little communities nestled in the crevice of giant slopes. 

As the plane began to descend, I got goosebumps knowing I was about to disembark at a destination I had longed to visit. Cusco, Peru is one of the oldest continually inhabited cities in the Americas and former capital of the Inca Empire. I knew that its architecture and culture were a blend between European and Inca, the latter still inhabiting the city. And to top it off, it has an elevation of 11,200 feet, much higher than the vast majority of cities around the world. 

We landed at the airport in the center of town. Tall hills stood all around with tiny houses stacked together along the slopes. 

View of the Plaza de Armas in Cusco.

Typical narrow street on a hill.

Ladies in traditional dress with baby alpacas pose for pictures.

They say that elevation sickness is a common ailment for newcomers arriving in Cusco. Locals recommend chewing on the coca leaf, the same plant that cocaine is made from, to alleviate the sickness. The leaf can be found in many stores. Luckily for us, elevation sickness was not an issue probably due to the fact that we already lived at a relatively high elevation. 

The first thing that struck me about Cusco were the steep and narrow cobblestone streets. They reminded me very much of Spain, but much steeper than anything I had experienced. There was a slightly rougher feel to the place. Some streets were dangerous to walk on as there was little to no sidewalk and barely enough room for a car to drive. 

Typical Cusco building with old stones as foundations.

San Cristobal Church stands on a hill overlooking Cusco.

Looking down Avendia de Santiago.

Most of the buildings were two stories, painted in pastel colors and many had a base made from stone. The city was built on top of the existing Inca settlement, and much of the stonework at the base level was the original Inca workmanship. I wondered what the city looked like before the arrival of the Spanish and also what it might look like now if it had never been conquered.

And speaking of Inca ruins, they were everywhere! The largest complex is at Sacsayhuamán, located northwest of town. This site contains gigantic rocks that were fitted together perfectly, making it one of the most amazing megalithic structures in the world. There is some debate as to whether the Inca actually fitted these stones together or if it was a more advanced civilization that preceded them. When the Spanish came they dismantled much of Sacsayhuamán and used the stones to build their own buildings in Cusco. 

Another archeological site called Q'enqo is just a mile to the east. There are still many other sites scattered about, including the foundations of Coricancha, one of the most important temples of the Inca Empire.

Megalithic structure at Sacsayhuaman.

Curious stonework with lintel, appearing to be a door that goes to nowhere.

A portion of sidewalk with old Inca stones exposed beneath modern masonry.

One of the things that surprised me about Cusco and the surrounding region was the traditional clothing of the Inca ladies. I'm sure you've seen the image of a lady in a bright-colored skirt, tall hat, and perhaps a robed satchel across her back. I used to think it was a show to display for tourists. But, no. They wear it all the time, and even when we were well out of the tourist areas, the women still wore the same thing. The men, on the other hand, seemed to be more assimilated into a western style of dress. 

In the city center, tourism was everywhere. In the Plaza de Armas near the cathedral, for example, a person can't go two steps without someone soliciting something: trinkets, paintings, dolls, scarfs, caps etc. In this section the ladies do dress up for show, sometimes holding baby alpacas. If you want to take their picture, it will cost. 

There are travel offices everywhere selling every possible tour package you might want while in Cusco. There are museums, fancy restaurants, souvenir stores and churches. San Pedro market is popular with tourists, but even more so with locals. It is an authentic market. When we came, the main building was closed, so the vendors were spread out onto the streets in every direction. 

Iglesia de la Compania de Jesus, in the main square of Cusco.

Statue of Pachacutec, an important ruler in ancient Peru.

Inca lady sells vegetables on the sidewalk.

Cusco was on the chilly side. Often we began the day wearing coats, then took them off in late-morning, but put them back on if the sun went behind a cloud. And, of course, we had them on in the evening and at night. Our hotel room was cold, with only an electric heater to warm it up. It was cold enough that I slept in pants and a long-sleeved shirt. 

But our hotel came with a view! Located partially up a hill, we could see across much of the valley, over a sea of terracotta-tiled roofs and multiple old churches that jutted above the rest. Without a doubt, Cusco was one of the most picturesque cities I had ever been in. 

View of bell tower of the Convent of Santo Domingo from our hotel.

Sweet lady standing guard to the bathrooms.

Backstreet of Cusco.

People walking the streets were a combination of local natives and tourists from around the world. It was quite a sight. It was not uncommon for a guide and tourist to be communicating in English—a second language to both. 

Dogs were everywhere. Most were friendly and many liked to bark. We only had one get aggressive and latch onto Jenna's shoelace. 

One of my favorite places in all of Cusco was San Blas Market. It wasn't large, but neither was it touristy like its larger cousin, San Pedro. The entire market was located under the roof of a single building. Venders sold bags of potatoes and fruit. In the food section we found several places to eat. Each sold something different and had white wooden benches where people could sit. 

The meals here cost half of what they did elsewhere. My first course was sopa de chuña, a thick potato soup with barley. For our second course, or “segundos,” I had ají de lizas, or papa liza, which is a type of tuber. It was yellow and had an earthy flavor that reminded me of beets. It also came with grilled chicken over rice. Two very hardy meals cost us 14 soles, or $3.74! 

Vegetable stand at San Blas Market.

One of many dogs in the city.

Ladies wait for the bus after shopping.

Pucara bulls, a symbol of protection and happiness, are found on rooftops of many buildings in Cusco.

Indoor clothing market.

Overall, we loved Cusco. There is so much to explore within the city and especially in the region roundabout in the form of day trips. It has a different feel to it than any other city I've been in. Part of it may be the high elevation and brisk air. It is also the Inca culture and the long history within the city. The layout of the town on steep hills with narrow cobblestoned streets adds to its uniqueness. 

But there was another question I couldn't get off my mind. For the vast majority of tourists that come to Peru, a trip to Cusco is a must. For one thing, there is no other way to get to Machu Picchu than through Cusco. My question, however, is how many other cities or small towns in Peru are similar to Cusco, but aren't filled or spoiled by the thousands of tourists? The thought definitely begs another trip to Peru! ♠ 

 

Large mural on Avenida del Sol.

A couple of gringos visit Cusco.

 

 

A Peruvian Bullfight

On our drive into Ollantaytambo we passed a circular stadium with a dirt interior. The first thought that crossed my mind was, maybe that's a cock-fighting colosseum.

A few hours later we were climbing tall, mammoth ruins on the edge of town when we peered over the edge and to my surprise saw the colosseum—but this time full of people!

An hour later, and now done with the ruins, I asked a lady sitting at a store-front, “Are there rooster-fights in Ollanta?” 

“Yes,” she said. “They're over that way,” pointing in the same direction as the colosseum. I was stoked! With one hour left of daylight, I knew exactly where we'd go.

We walked through a dirt parking lot and over an embankment. Already I could see the townspeople sitting on the hillside. Below them was the outdoor colosseum with seats full and spectators overflowing. We walked along a dirt path and slipped between lines of people and found a spot on the rock wall where we could stand and see most of the arena.

The setting was beautiful. As the sun lowered in the valley, a special glow radiated on the mountains that towered above us. Storm clouds teased from the upper peaks and the scent of rain blew all around.

As of now, there was nothing happening in the ring. A patient crowd sat on walls and leaned over fences, waiting for something to begin. From time to time a lady would enter the arena selling beer or Coke and the crowd would cheer and whistle and she would smile back.

On the far side of the arena, near the back entrance, I saw a livestock truck attempt to back up. “Maybe he's bringing the roosters,” I suggested.

Jenna, who is much more observant than myself, responded, “No, those animals have horns.”

Within a few minutes a group of matadors entered the arena. They paraded to the the crowd, attracting cheers and applause. It was then that I realized that this was no cock-fighting colosseum, but a bullfighting ring!

I was excited. I had only seen one bullfight in my life, and that was over twenty years ago in Valencia, Spain. But that was a bullfight on horseback, or rejoneo, and is not favored by true aficionados. Perhaps this was my chance to view the real thing.

Then, from within another entryway, a bull raced into the ring and the crowd cheered with excitement. With a rope still lassoed around his neck, a group of adrenaline-filled helpers tugged at the rope and pulled the resisting animal close enough to the outer ring where they could undo the loop from his head.

The bull was free!

In typical fashion the matador waved his red cape and taunted the bull to come his way. The bull lowered his head and charged forward, barely missing the man.

The scene was repeated over and over. There wasn't one matador, but three in the ring at once; and each stood in a different section of the ring.

The crowd was fun to watch. They cheered with every pass and yelled out “Bravo!” One section was reserved for the band who played their drums and tubas, keeping the atmosphere upbeat.—I was also fascinated to see a boy, no more than eight years old, sit on the edge of the ring with his legs dangling over. He had to hustle and move his legs on one instance when the bull came too close.

A lady next to us had a box of beverages and several homemade desserts she was selling. She turned and asked if we wanted a beer. 

“No, thanks,” I said in Spanish, “but we'll take a piece of cake.”

After the matador, it was time for the banderillo. I turned to Jenna and explained that this is the guy that has a dowel with a steel point beneath his cape and makes the first thrust into the bull's withers.

[Please forgive me if I make a mistake in terminology. I assumed this was now the second act of the bullfight when the banderillo makes his entrance. In a true bullfight, I believe, he does not use a cape, but only carries two dowels called banderillas. I did not know if this bullfight in Peru followed the same suit.]

When I watched my first bullfight twenty years ago, this was the point when my wife first saw blood running down the flanks and realized that the aim was to kill the bull. Mentally, she had known it all along, but this was the first time that the reality of it had sunk in.

I watched the banderillo draw the bull with his cape and the bull made several passes. Then he put down his cape, raised the sword and the crowd cheered. Then he returned to his blockade at the edge of the ring, put down the cape and lit a cigarette. His turn was over.

I thought that was odd. 

Then, a cowboy-looking macho guy came out with his lasso, whirled it through the air, and flung it toward the bull. Twice he missed, but the third time was a charm and the one ton animal was pulled and persuaded out of the arena and back into the truck. 

This entire scene was repeated one more time. I turned to the lady who sold us the dessert. “Why don't they kill the bull,” I asked. 

“It is prohibited,” she replied, “and has been for about three or four years.” 

Interesting. Animal-right ideology had made its way to Peru. I knew that in some parts of Spain bullfighting had been banned altogether and old bull rings had been converted into shopping malls. But Spain is in the midst of European progessivism, while Peru, I thought, would be sheltered, especially this deep into the Andes. 

Jenna wasn't saddened that they didn't kill the bull. That's how she preferred it. A little sport, then let the bull run free. 

I, on the other hand, felt disappointed. I understood how some can see it as animal cruelty, but the suffering of the bull, in reality, isn't very long. Maybe fifteen minutes. Instead I see a world where the true masculine things in our society are becoming erased. And believe me, bullfighting is truly a masculine sport. 

I was, however, happy that we happened upon this unusual spectacle. As I walked back toward the old town of Ollantaytambo, with the fresh breeze at my face and the giant Andes mountains all around, I was grateful to be here. Grateful for all the variety of life. ♠