Food: The Staple of Cusquenan Culture

To attempt to describe my experience in Cusco without mentioning food would be blasphemy to the people here. Food is such an important part of life; such a defining part of their culture that each meal has it's own verb, noun and adjective!

I have been blessed to have a gourmet cook for a host Mom while I'm down here. Not only is my diet not a problem to her, it's a challenge. While the other students have bread for breakfast and dinner, I have fried yucca, eggs, plantains, potatoes, mate de coca, and juice. Lunch is a three course meal (at least), and can take the better part of an afternoon to make, eat and clean up. Start with fruit, move to soup or salad, then take your main course (consisting of three entrees), then finish with fruit and mate de coca. Dinner is similar, except without the soup. If you don't eat a meal or try to refuse a certain dish, havoc ensues.

Fruit here is especially interesting - I have had a new type of fruit, most of whose names I can't pronounce or remember, nearly every day since coming here. In the morning, they take the fruit, peel it, mash it up and sometimes blend it, and pour it into your cup. I can complain about nothing food-wise - our regular diet is made of meat, potatoes, fruit, vegetables, rice, and random exotic things that I can't pronounce. It doesn't get much better than that!

Mate de coca is also a daily necessity here. Made from the leaves of coca plants, it apparently cures every ill you can come up with (or so they tell us). Actually, it is pretty impressive - so far it's helped me with altitude sickness, headaches, stomach aches and muscle aches. It can either put you to sleep at night or wake you up in the morning. They drink it after every meal to help with digestion, because even to them some of their foods are a bit harsh on the stomach. (And there's always a ton of it.)

I think the best part of their diet is how fresh it is. A daily trip to the market brings in every ingredient you need for the day. The meat is usually still in the shape of whatever animal it came from earlier that morning; tell the vendor what part you want and they chop it off, wrap it in paper and it's all yours. Milk is even better - come after 9 a.m. and you're too late, they've either sold it, it's gone bad, or they've made it into butter or cream or cheese. Our professor took us to the market one day for class, and I snapped a few pictures. They're not great, but they give a little glimpse of what it's like!