Destinations Editor Eric Moya was in Peru last week for a culinary-themed trip hosted by the JW Marriott El Convento Cusco. His second of two dispatches follows. Click to read Eric's first dispatch.
A camera-toting throng had assembled at the Pachapapa restaurant in Cusco's San Blas neighborhood, eagerly awaiting a glimpse of the star of the show.
It was time for his close-up. He obliged for what was probably just a few seconds, though it felt much longer -- the still center in a sea of flashes, shutter clicks and selfie sticks. It was part of the job, but at least it was an adoring public.
It was also a hell of a lot of fuss over a dead guinea pig. (And, full disclosure: I have no idea if it was really a "he.")
The couple at the table next to mine had requested the photo op with their roasted cuy entero before it was served in the usual way (quartered, sort of like a chicken). As their waiter brought it out, several less adventurous diners set aside their brick-oven pizzas and calzones for a moment to live vicariously through these Andrew Zimmerns-in-training.
"I used to play with these as a kid," said the male diner to the surrounding onlookers, practically on cue.
Meanwhile, I contented myself with the restaurant's eponymous entree, which included a brochette of grilled alpaca (mini-review: it tastes like lean beef), a tamale and a stuffed pepper.
The previous night was my introduction to cuy, and I actually ate it twice: at Chicha it was but one element of a delicious variation on fried rice, and as part of an expertly prepared tasting menu at the JW Marriott El Convento's Pirqa restaurant, its savory-crackly skin recalled nothing if not perfectly fried (wait for it) chicken.
The novelty having worn off, I began to feel some ambivalence as I witnessed the spectacle at Pachapapa. I wondered how many visitors see eating guinea pig purely as stunt dining -- like downing a 72-ounce steak at a Texas roadhouse, say, or inhaling a dozen Three Mile Island wings at your local sports bar.
How many of those lining up for a close-up of Mr. Cuy realized that for thousands of years, guinea pig has served as an important nutritional source for the Andean population?
I wouldn't begrudge anyone their culinary bragging rights -- my camera's memory card proves I'm far from immune -- but I guess I'd hope that such impulses would be tempered with some cultural awareness and a fair bit of sensitivity: Maybe stifle that "eww," or perhaps skip that story about your fourth-grade class pet?
Meanwhile, once the fanfare died down at Pachapapa, all that was left was the eating. Until the next order of whole roasted cuy, and the next photo op.