The fascinating Peruvian cuisine

In Peru, I fell in love twice. The first time was with the mountains, on the six-month journey I traced from Cusco to Chiclayo. The second, more recent, was during a ten-day visit to Lima and Nazca. The reason was almost the opposite: this time I wanted to devour the capital bite by bite. At the same time, I missed the accent, the huaynos, the Cusqueña beer, the street chifles; in short, I missed my Peru. After the first twenty-four hours of my arrival, there was no doubt: Peruvian cuisine had reconquered me. By then, its gastronomy had already exploded like a bomb before the world critics: it was recognized everywhere as one of the most complex and, of course, as one of the best. After traveling practically the whole country between my first and second visit, what I miss most about Peruvian cuisine are the smoky flavors of the highlands. The pachamanca (a delicacy of meats and vegetables cooked underground) tastes like the Andes to me, when their inaccessible peaks were the blanket of my nights. I relate it to the memory of the monumental Inca buildings, with their mystical and overwhelming energy. There, at over 2400 m high, the culture could be enjoyed in a dense dish where potatoes, ají, and huacatay were always present. I have never eaten a larger avocado or a sweeter pineapple than the ones I tasted up there in the heights.But the regions in Peru divide the findings. The rugged geography, settlements, and migrations ended up grouping their preparations: there are marine dishes, fusion –chifa and nikkei– Andean, creole, African, Amazonian... Delicious from every angle. The most acclaimed may be the marine cuisine: it is a ceremony dedicated to the unbeatable product of the cold Humboldt currents in the Pacific and almost always enhanced with Eastern touches. As in all countries, the essence is concentrated in the capital. You have to dodge stalls and people on the sidewalks to get to the freshest ceviche or leche de tigre at the Mercado No. 1 in Surquillo. For a good meal of Chinese cuisine, you head toward the center and arrive at San Joy Lao –the charqui and chanchito fried rice is a must–. In neighborhoods like Miraflores and San Isidro, you can find the intellectual jewels of great local chefs like Virgilio Martínez of Central, Pía León of Kjolle, or my great favorite, Mitsuharu Tsumura of Maido, who takes Nikkei flavors (half Peruvian, half Japanese) to the summit. It is impossible not to mention Astrid and Gastón by Gastón Acurio, the great leader of Peruvian cuisine around the world; relatively new spots like Osso or the classics like Fiesta.The stews from the picanterías never fall behind, the picarones available in shops during the season, and the anticuchos from the corners that find you in the early morning hours. Their smell of spiced meat grilled over charcoal calls out like a giant neon advertisement. In the picanterías, the knowledge of popular cuisine converges. It makes me nostalgic to think of their chicharrones, their chupes (broths) –and their pig’s feet. In these small establishments, usually guarded by a matriarch, the genesis of great Peruvian gastronomy and the techniques passed down through generations are preserved. The picanterías are so valuable that several districts have declared them Cultural Heritage of the Nation. Peruvian cuisine is not exempt from the exotic and the intricate. Have you ever tried llama, alpaca, or cuy meat? In some areas of Peru, they are a delicacy. The texture of alpaca is unmatched; it falls apart as soon as the fork touches it. For me, it was everything I asked for –along with one or two pisco sours– as soon as I returned to Cusco every Friday after a week spent in the mountains. There are a thousand stews, dozens of drinks, desserts that make you sigh, and preparations from regions like Chiclayo or Arequipa still missing from the account. I will try to talk about everything in other editorial letters. Perhaps with words, I can express all the love I feel for this culture and its food. In the meantime, I share with all my affection and respect, a recipe originating from the city of Huancayo and a must-try from the restaurants in Lima: papa a la huancaína. The original preparation obviously includes ají amarillo, although here we made it with yellow bell pepper so that home cooks could easily find it. Should I tell you something? It turned out delicious!