While I do not consider myself a very adventurous individual when it comes to exotic delicacies, I am attempting to broaden my horizons over time. Considering that just a few years ago I was too scared to even try sushi (and now it's one of my favorite meals), I feel like I've made great strides in a brief period of time throughout my travels. Everyone has certainly seen cow, pig, and chicken on restaurant menus, but there are many other types of meats that are endemic to local regions and not widely available in the United States. This brings me back again to the South American town of Cuzco in Peru. When you think of Peru, the mind is instantly drawn to the sweeping view of Machu Picchu atop a mountain with llamas and alpaca freely roaming the hillsides. This is because alpaca are native to Peru, and are common livestock for both their wool and meat. It goes without saying that my first meal in Peru consisted of a juicy slab of alpaca steak. It was tender and flavorful, and not altogether unlike eating beef. And thus, after washing it down with a delicious swig of Inka Cola, I was able to add another unique meal to my ever-growing list.
I felt emboldened by this successful adventure, and was ready to take on what else the country had to offer. Shortly afterwards, I heard about the common dish that once used to be reserved for ceremonial occasions -- cuy. These animals are held in high esteem by many Peruvians, and oftentimes are bred by the locals for both their meat and for their warmth on cold winter nights. Intrigued, I acquiesced to my tourguide for the day, and told him I would love to try out a local cuyeria for lunch after our travels. After tromping through numerous pre-Incan ruins all morning, I was quite famished by the time mid-afternoon arrived and was ready to partake in a grandiose meal.
We stopped at a roadside cuyeria -- a small restaurant that specializes only in cuy and is a thriving business for locals and tourists alike. We were greeted warmly and overcome with the delicious aroma of lunch wafting toward us. The brick oven was filled with cuy being freshly prepared, and it smelled quite savory. I took my seat while my stomach eagerly awaited for the dish to arrive to quench the hunger pangs that had intensified upon entering the restaurant. I was a little apprehensive about trying a new dish, but I was past the point of no return and could not turn back now. The waitress quickly arrived with two platters which she deftly placed on the table for all to see, and suddenly my appetite took a dive for the worse. I graciously smiled to show my appreciation, and slid an entire cuy onto my plate, claws and teeth and eyeballs included. When I had pictured cuy, this was not exactly what I had envisioned. I typically don't prefer my food to return my gaze, with its mouth curled back in an antagonizing snarl to bare its little rodent teeth at me.
And so I took my fork and knife, and steadfastly carved away bits of meat that seemed the most edible, chewing on them and forcing myself to swallow. The meat wasn't necessarily unpleasant, it just wasn't exactly what I had anticipated. After several obligatory bites (trying to eat enough to not seem rude) I feigned satiety and admitted that I simply could not eat another bite of this delicious meal. And so there it sat, the unwanted half of a cuy that a hapless tourist did not have the gall to finish. It's not that I have anything personal against the animal; in fact, I knew many people who had them as pets when I was younger. But seeing a guinea pig on a platter with its hair completely plucked off and its body still intact, it looked like a large sewer rat splayed out for me to eat... and that was just crossing a line that I didn't want to cross.
Cuy aka guinea pig
This picture is a bit disturbing along with the green stuff hanging out of his stomach. Just think you were getting to eat him and the partially digested grass he ate that morning. Yummmmmmy! Hoping the next food blog looks a bit better.
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