Patches, You Ruined My Day

My father is allergic to dogs, cats, Christmas trees and pollen, among other things. As a result, as a child I grew up with both an artificial tree on 12/25 and a lack of felines or canines in the home. However, with 6 kids in the house, several of us were bound to want to get pets of some sort. Mice, birds, fish and lizards all made their way into various rooms of Casa Smyczek over the years, but perhaps our most endearing pet was "Patches," a guinea pig that we purchased from a shopping mall pet store. Shortly after Patches purchase (or "adoption" if you are the PETA-type), she gave birth to three young rodents, which forever endeared her into our hearts.

Guinea pig, in Peru, is simply known as "cuy." See, the Incas and other indigineous people have been enjoying roast and fried guinea pig for centuries. I´m all about consuming the local specialty, so I spent a dollar on a taxi to head to a restaurant east of central Arequipa that is knows for its cuy. A very pleasant space, with a band playing inside and a brezy courtyard, I say down for my first cuy. I opened the menu, and...they don´t debone or behead the little guys. They just take off their skin and hair, throw ´em on a frying pan with a rock on top of them, flip it, and serve. I mean, you could make out every detail of the little guy.



I tried drinking my pisco sour quickly, but when I returned to that photo of fried guinea pig, I just couldn´t, couldn´t, couldn´t EAT PATCHES. So I had cow´s feet stew instead, which was actually muy delicioso.

I´m off tomorow for a three-day trek in the Colca Canyon from here in Arequipa (which is a lovely place, puts Lima to shame). I get back Friday night, and then I´m off on an overnight bus to Cusco.