Saturday, July 28, 2007

Eating Cuy







The pictures are:
1. Cuy and fries
2. Me and Cuy
3. Cuy Head on a fork
4. More MP
5. Llamas waiting for a cab at the airport.


Here is something I wrote for another website about eating guinea pig. See the next post for more on the end of our South America trip.


It took seven cocktails to get there. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t order seven, but I drank that many and it helped. To prepare for what I was about to eat I went to happy hour first and ordered a cocktail, but it happened to be 4 for 1 that hour. My girlfriend was with me, and I expected her to help me out with the 4 mojitos, but after they arrived she told me she wasn’t feeling well. So I had four, by myself. Then we went to the restaurant for the night’s challenge and I ordered another mojito, but this restaurant was currently doing three for one. So about halfway through the third (well seventh really) drink my meal arrived; head, feet, legs and all. It was what used to be a cute furry guinea pig, now roasted, splayed out and ready for my dining ……...pleasure?

I visited Peru for a few weeks with my girlfriend. We were on the typical Gringo trail around Peru, which includes The Nazca Lines, Colca Canyon, Lake Titicaca, Cuzco and of course Machu Picchu. It was our second to last night and we were in Augas Calientes, the small town that serves as a base for visiting the ruins of Machu Picchu. I had been putting it off for long enough and it was time to pick up knife and fork and just go for it. The seven cocktails helped drown out any ideas of cute cuddly pets. I did not have them as a kid but my girlfriend did and I had mice and hamsters. So they weren’t what I thought of when I think dinner.

It is served in several South American countries and is called Cuy. Supposedly they are called that because of the sound they make sounds a little like “kwee, kwee” which is how Cuy is pronounced. Their cute little cooing sound doesn’t make them more appetizing, but I pride myself on being adventurous in my travel eating. The dish goes back to before the Spaniards, and was a popular dish of the Inca’s. My brother always claims that “they” would not make it if it wasn’t good, and I had to/wanted to try it while I was in Peru. After all, they’ve been making it for quite some time now.

I even bargained for my meal. It was listed as 50 soles (about 15 USD) on the menu, but the guy out front said he would give it to me for 30. I even got the 3 for 1 drinks down a bit. I wonder if he is used to having to sell drinks to foreigners trying to get up the liquid courage to try to eat a pet. The dish is served all over Peru and it is often a question among travelers “have you eaten it yet?” I never actually saw a Peruvian eat it (although I did see a Bolivian with about 20 in a little pen in here home-close to the kitchen) and wonder if it is one of those dishes kept alive by the sheer novelty sake for tourists. Well I am a tourist, and I wanted to eat it.

You can order it two ways. You can have it delivered to you as just cut up meet, or it can be with all limbs and head attached spread out on your plate. I had to have it the second way, I needed a photo. My girlfriend would not eat any of it, still too fond of her childhood pets, and without a cocktail(s). I did (almost) force her into having one bite, but she does not like to admit now that she had a bite.

They are in fact tough eating. Not that the meat is so hard or chewy, rather, it’s hard to get any meat from it. I suppose not surprisingly by looking at them, but the meal is a wrestling match to try to get much eatable meat off the bones. I did get a little silly while eating (remember all the cocktails). I made my girlfriend take a picture of me holding its head on a fork, and the open mouth had a French fry in it. Yes, I did play with my food, even though my mother told me not to so many years ago.

So what does it taste like? Well you guessed it, chicken. A lot of people say rabbit, but I’m not sure I agree. I am much more familiar with chicken than rabbit, but still I would say chicken. If it was cut up served in a stew and you were told it was chicken, you would never know the difference.

It was an experience to have Guinea pig for dinner, that for sure. On our last day in Lima we bought a Peruvian cook book. Often when I get home I have a hankering for something I had eaten during my travels, and try to cook it up at home. Let’s just say that won’t be happening in this case. I will not be visiting any pet stores and stoking up the BBQ any time soon.

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