Peruvian Food

“So, is it like Mexican food?” seems to be a common question.

My reflex is to say “no”, but if there’s one thing that I learned on my recent trip to Peru is that defining a country’s food by one or two dishes or regions doesn’t do it justice. In Texas the dominance of cheese enchiladas likely isn’t representative of entrees from Mexico’s interior or coastal regions.

That’s my disclaimer. I was only in Peru for two weeks, and spent time in Cusco (touristy area) and my wife’s coastal hometown of Trujillo, so I don’t have the whole picture when it comes to Peruvian cuisine. The upside of travelling with a native is that I got to taste things that I probably wouldn’t otherwise consider. The downside is that I endured 3 days of penance on the porcelain throne for my culinary promiscuity.

But the ceviche was totally worth it.

In Trujillo they take fresh fish and shellfish and soak it in a lime-based sauce. Throw some thinly-sliced onions on the side with a few chunks of yucca and some roasted corn and you’ve got one tasty meal. Be prepared though, as every flavor in Peru punches you in the face as if to question the masculinity of your palate. The Ceviche de Conchas Negras is a prime – and delicious – example.

A ceviche lunch for two people runs about 5 to 10 bucks. That’s only if you’re a big spender. Most restaurants offer a 3 course meal known as menú (not the paper list of food) consisting of an appetizer, an entrée, a dessert and a drink for the reasonable price of $3 to $5. Waiters are all on a salary, so tipping isn’t the norm.

Drink options are as varied as the meals, ranging from Inca Kola (tastes like Big Red but looks like Mountain Dew), to Chicha Morada. If you’re in the mood for an adult beverage, I would highly recommend a Pisco Sour. This social lubricant also had the special ability to improve my Spanish on several occasions (or so I thought).

Guinea pig (cuy) is served in several different ways, but they all involve a plate of tiny claws and ribs, usually with a terrified rodent head looking back at you. This punctuates an interesting difference between Peruvians and Americans: they truly understand where their food came from.
As I ate the cuy it was impossible not to be aware that an animal was killed for my lunch - and I’m okay with that. There’s no way to mitigate it by claiming fractional ownership, or disguise it by forming it in an unnatural shape.

It’s there staring you in the face. Literally.

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Food: 1 Cuy (get it?)

Service: How's your spanish?

Ambiance: Do you like lawn furniture?

Value: Enough to make you feel like you're stealing.

Overall: Highly recommended.

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Are you planning on meeting your mail-order Peruvian bride for the first time? Drink plenty of electrolytes and be sure to try some ceviche while you're there.