The Food of Peru

The other day a friend asked me “is Peruvian food good?” I knew my scoffing ‘Ha! God no,” wasn’t really fair – Peru has some absolutely amazing food and restaurants. The problem is, any fond memories I might have had of Peruvian cuisine have been tainted by bad experiences – namely, thinking Mum was going to die from catfish food-poisoning; my desperation to find something green in Cusco; the unpleasant softness of fried guinea pig; and watching Morgan vomit his way from Peru to Bolivia.

Vegetables in the supermercado, Lima, capital of Peru

I had to think hard to remember all the wonderful eats we had as we trekked our way from Lima, to Iquitos and the Amazon, to Cusco then Puno. Now though, I do remember the amazing fruits and fishes we had in the Amazon, the mega avocadoes that constituted ‘salad’ in Lima, quinoa  – “supergrain of the Andes” – in soups, and clinking glasses of delicious Pisco on all those foreign evenings, ‘cheersing’ our success at having survived another day in South America despite our badly-spoken Spanish.

Peru is divided into three distinct regions: the coast, the Andean highlands, and the Amazon rainforest. The cuisine differs between these regions, but the country’s vastness and the diversity of its landscapes mean the Peruvians import very little food from other countries – they are capable of growing most of what they need somewhere across their own terrain. Their fish and seafood are from the Pacific Ocean; plantains, bananas, mangoes and yams are plentiful in the Amazonia and tropics; corn, rice, potatoes, beef and other meats are traditional staples of the highlands (‘Food by Country’ is a good source for more information ).

Lima:
Lima is culinary capital of South America, and where my South American food-trip began. Within two hours of arriving I’d sussed out my local ice-creamery, juice bar, ‘healthy restaurant’ strip, and found a huge, fantastic ‘supermercado’. Mum and I only had 30soles between us, but with that, we managed to buy a packet of sweet potato chips, fried corn, orange juice and rum. Pre-dinner essentials. There were some exquisite fruits and vegetables in that supermarket – black corn, and something colourful that I’m going to call ‘Magic Beans’. We wandered around for a while, just enjoying the new sights and flavours. What is it about foreign food that excites me so much? There was a beer aisle, and a wine and spirit aisle in addition to the ‘usual’ sorts we would find in Australia.

Inside the 'Supermercado', Lima.

The streets surrounding Main Square in Lima are dotted with ‘restaurante turiscos’ (Tourist Restaurants). We chose one when a waiter thrust an English menu at us and said “Free Pisco Sour!”

The tourist menus in Peru are good value: for about 15soles you can have an entre, main, and often a free Pisco (like an explicit acknowledgment of ‘yes we know you are turis and you like cheap alcohol!’). Pisco is distilled from grapes, like brandy, but is clear and just tastes like alcohol. ‘Pisco Sour’ is the national drink in Chile and Peru, made of lemon juice, sugar, Pisco, eggwhite and a dash of bitters. After a day trekking the dusty streets of Lima, it was cold and soothing. “Aw, needed that after that taxi ride”, said my Dad. (Any car can be a taxi in Peru and Bolivia. They don’t even seem to need to be roadworthy. The one Dad was referring to here was tiny, yellow, and seemed far to rusty to be able to go so fast. The back panel actually ripped off when I tried to put my seatbelt on…)

Avocados featured in both entre and main – half a grape-fruit sized one stuffed with a creamy shrimp or shredded chicken mixture for entre; another (or the other) half took up a quarter of our dinner plates of grilled fish and chips. (Everything comes with chips, or potato fried some way.) There was no other sort of vegetable on offer, but the avocados were so luxurious and buttery I didn’t mind. Well, it was heaven really, for in Australia’s cities they are small and expensive, and cafes can be so stingy when they say ‘with avocado’!

Iquitos and the Amazon:

Fish and chicken cooked on banana leves, near Iquitos.

Iquitos was our gateway to the Amazon. It is an island of a city, accessible only by 7day boat ride, or a very expensive flight from Lima. We took the latter option.

I loved Iquitos – it reminded me of the seaside towns in Vietnam; the same sort of laid-back, coastal atmosphere. From there, we took a small motor boat 200km up the Amazon river, into the jungle, to Muyana Amazon Lodge, for an incredible Amazon-experience. June is low-season, so my family of four and a couple of men were the only guests at Muyana; we felt so exclusively remote. At night we went to sleep listening to the drums in the surrounding villages (all the villagers had gotten together for a wedding, apparently, so the jungle was alive with the festivities). We woke to the sound of Macaws, and splashing – tiny village children out spear-fishing in their canoes. It was brilliant: no power (so no refrigeration), no other tourists – ‘gringos’ as we’re better known as across South America – and we were looked after so well.

No refrigeration meant that everything we ate was fresh and local. We were served what was grown, what was plentiful and handy: chicken and rice wrapped in a banana leaf

A 'cafe' on the banks of the Amazon: bananas and chicken with rice steamed in banana leaves.

and steamed; skewered catfish in a salty capsicum marinade (one of my favourites, but nearly the death of Mum. She must have got a bad bit); palm-heart salad; beef meatballs with passionfruit sauce; mashed and fried plantains with bacon—a couscous-like texture; rice and creamy milk curries; papaya, mangos, guavas, and lots of eggs. We could hear the chickens clucking out the back of the lodge.

 

Cusco and the highlands:
From the plane window we watched the Amazon river wind through its jungle, then end completely. Between Cusco and Lima we looked down on snowy peaks, desert hills and sand dunes; there was absolutely no greenery. I was too full of awe to find it depressing.

Menu in a Cusco restaurant.

Considering that hard and barren landscape, it’s no wonder there wasn’t a green leaf to be had in Cusco (not at the cheaper ‘turis restaurantes’, at least); I was sure we were going to go scurvy as we travelled through the Peruvian highlands – from Cusco to Puno and into Bolivia. There was still a beautiful array of fruits for breakfast (papaya juice, too), yoghurt in jugs and an urn of thick, mollassesy coffee. There were no more avocados; my ensalada on the first night was two slices of cucumber and a piece of tomato, alongside grilled pollo and a pile of fries. Some of the menus were interesting (‘Sexy Plexy Amazonas Stuffed Pineapple!?’), and the restaurant banners depicting royal cape and crown-wearing guinea pigs were … amusing, but, wow, I’ve never eaten so much chicken nor been so long without a salad.

In Aguas Calientes we tried Alpaca loin wrapped in bacon, which was beautiful. Alpaca is not like other meats I’ve tasted – not fatty like lamb, or as dense as beef. It’s quite unique, but was familiarly nice and meaty. Eating it reminded me how much I’d been craving some red meat. Our diets consisted mainly of fish and chicken until we got to Brazil, many weeks later.

Apparently there is a Peruvian restaurant in West End, called ‘Red and White’. It is high on my ‘to try’ list, now that I have dredged up my good memories of Peruvian food.

Cocoa Sesame Biscuits

This is the recipe of a very good mistake (we forgot the sugar, AND the flour):

Cocoa Sesame Biscuits

¾ cup LSA mix (ground linseeds, sesame seeds and almonds)
¼ cup cocoa powder
1 cup sesame seeds
¾ cup rolled oats
100g butter
2 tblsp honey
1 egg, brusquely beaten
2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
180g dark chocolate (optional)

Method:

1. Preheat oven to about 180◦C. Grease a large baking tray.
2. Throw LSA  into a large blue mixing bowl with oats, cocoa and sesame seeds.
3. Melt butter and honey together, then add the bicarb. Allow the mixture to froth, then add to dry ingredients and combine well.
4. Make a well in the centre of the mixture and add the egg.
5. Roll tablespoonfuls of the mixture into balls and place on the tray, at least 2.5cm apart to allow for spreading. Bake for about 12minutes.
6. Allow to cool slightly on the tray before transferring to a wire rack.
7. Enjoy on their own with a cup of tea and a friend in the garage (like we did), or fancy-it-up and serve with soft cheese… or smother with the melted chocolate!

About my baking-buddy: Her name is Kate, she is a writer, a baker, and maintainer of a fantastic blog “Eco-Bris“, where she provides resources for foodies, frugavores, vegans, vegetarians, and conscientious foodies.

Tomato and Coconut Soup

Tomatoes in the "Rosedale" vegetable jungle

This is a beautiful, spicy soup, based on a Bill Granger recipe.

Tomato Soup with Cashew and Coconut Sambal
1kg tomatoes, halved
1 red capsicum, halved and deseeded
6 garlic cloves, peeled
1 small carrot, diced
¼ olive oil
2 tsp ground coriander
2 tsp ground cumin
a sprinkle of ground chilli
1 cup chicken or vegetable stock
½ cup coconut milk
to serve: coconut and cashew sambal
1. Preheat oven to 200◦C.
2. Put the tomatoes, capsicum, garlic and carrot in a large casserole dish, drizzle with olice oil, sprinkle with spices and season with sea salt and ground black pepper. Cover with a lid or foil and bake for 1 hour.
3. Uncover and bake for another 30 minutes, or until the vegetables are well cooked.
4. Transfer the vegetables to a food processor and process until smooth.
5. Return the mixture to a large, heavy-based saucepan and add the stock and coconut milk. Stir well and cook over medium heat until warmed through. Ladle into serving bowls and serve topped with some coconut sambal.
Serves 4-6

Cashew and Coconut Sambal
1/3 cup cashew nuts
1/3 cup flaked coconut
a large handful of coriander or mint leaves, or a mixture of the two
a large pinch of sea salt
¼ cup water
Combine all ingredients in a blender and process until roughly chopped.

Rabbit Poo

makes 24

Want to make something for Easter that isn’t full of sugar and other evil? There are a few recipes for goodie balls and other naughty-but-not chocolaty treats on the Internet. These are my version, very nutritious, vegan, and Candida-friendly. Soaking the almonds overnight makes them milky, yummy, and ultra-digestible. Note – the tahini flavour is fairly strong. Substitute almond butter if you like, or add more stevia.

• 1 cup almonds, soaked overnight
• ½ cup mixed dried fruit (prunes, apricots, dates), soaked overnight
• 2 tblsp unhulled tahini
• 1/3 raw cup cocoa powder
• ¼ tsp powdered stevia
• Coconut, to roll balls in

1. Drain the almonds and process until well-chopped and mushy. (Make them fairly fine, but it is nice to have some larger chunks as well.) Transfer to a large mixing bowl.
2. The soaked fruit should have absorbed the water and be very soft. Process to form a paste and add to the almonds.
3. Stir in tahini.
4. Mix cocoa with stevia powder in a separate bowl. Add to the wet mixture and combine well.
5. Roll teaspoonfuls of the mixture into balls and cover with desiccated coconut.
6. Store in the freezer to keep fresh!

Asian-inspired Mango Salad

14th January 2010
“Rosedale”

Since Queensland went under water there have been few food trucks out West. So, due to a severe shortage of everything in the Barcaldine IGA, we’ve been making use of what we have: mangos, beef, and the vegie garden. The mango tree is prolific and we’re having our usual January compulsory mango-eating campaign: mango smoothies, salads, roast mango, grilled mango, mango daiquris… any other ideas? Please? By this stage of the month no one in my house wants to even look at another mango, ever again!

 

Asian-inspired Mango Salad

3 large just-ripe mangos, in slices or cubes
¼ red onion, finely sliced
¼ cup torn mint
¼ cup chopped cashews
¼ cabbage, shredded OR a few handfuls of mixed salad leaves
Dressing
¼ cup tamari soy sauce
1 red chilli, very finely chopped
1tblsp rice wine vinegar
2 scoops stevia powder (or 2 tsp honey)

Combine all dressing ingredients. Place mango and onion in a mixing bowl and toss in the dressing. (Can marinate the mango in this mixture in the fridge for an hour or so if you like – it gets very spicy though!) Arrange the cabbage or leaves in a serving bowl, spoon over the mango and dressing, sprinkle with the mint and the chopped nuts.

Coconut Macaroon Cake

Spring Saturday Cake

 Kate and I went to the markets today, bought piles of real vegetables from real farmers, then had a big lunch-time cook-up in my little kitchen. It’s her birthday and David’s this month, too, so we created a fabulous cake… I will call it a Coconut Macaroon Cake with yoghurt and passionfruit. (I will eventually get around to writing out our entire menu: Indian carrot fritters, waldorf salad with mint and hazelnuts and Moroccan beetroot salad… but Kate has requested the cake recipe to come first, just as all good desserts should.) David and Danielle came to share it with us. We sat on the pink couches with cups of tea and devoured the cake from saucers with teaspoons.

This cake has a golden, crunchy outside and a chewy middle. Yoghurt is good and sour sandwiched inside the sweet meringue. Use cream instead if you like, or add a bit of sugar. You could try different fruits too, but coconut and passionfruit are so, so good together!

Ingredients:

• 4 egg whites
• ¾ cup caster sugar
• ¾ cup dessicated coconut
• ¼  cup thick yoghurt
• Pulp of 2 passionfruit

Method:

1. Preheat oven to 180◦C and draw two 20cm circles on a sheet of baking paper. Place baking paper on a couple of trays.
2. Whisk egg whites until stiff, then gradually add the sugar and beat to a soft meringue. Fold in coconut.
3. Spread the mixture evenly over both circles on the baking paper and put the tray in the oven.
4. Bake for about 20 minutes, or until golden and toasty in colour. Cakes should be soft and pliable, not crisp.
5. Carefully peel the paper from the bottom of the cakes and cool on a wire rack.
6. To fill, spread yoghurt over one cake and spoon over the passionfruit pulp. Place the other meringue on top and dust with icing sugar.

Note: This can be eaten straight away, but is lovely if left for a while – the inside gets gooeyer and chewier and yummier while the top remains crunchy.

“Eating the World”

This is such a gorgeous poem. I love food and words, and I just about melt when I read it.

 

“Eating the World”

Excerpted from the poem by James Tipton, 1995

 

I was born with my mouth open…
entering this juicy world
of peaches and lemons and ripe sun…
this world where dinner is in the breath of the subtle desert,
in the spices of the distant sea
which late at night drift over sleep

I want to feed you the flowers of ice
on this winter window,
the aroma of many soups,
the scent of sacred candles
that follow me around this cedar house,
I want to feed you the lavender
that lifts out of certain poems,
and the cinnamon of apples baking,
and the simple joy we see in the sky when we fall in love.

I want to feed you the pungent soil
where I harvested garlic,
I want to feed you the memories
rising out of aspen logs
when I split them, and the pinyon smoke
that gathers around the house on a still night,
and the mums left by the kitchen door.

Potpourri for the Kitchen

 

In the holidays I baked Middle Eastern-inspired shortbread and the whole kitchen smelled of rosewater. When I opened the oven door it seemed to me that plumes of pink steam should have wafted out! They are worth making just for the scent.

 The recipe is a variation of Belinda Jeffery’s Fragrant Cardamom Shortbread published in the September 2009 Delicious magazine.

 

 

Rosewater and Cardamom Shortbread   

• 150g unsalted butter
• ½ cup rice flour
• ½ cup corn flour
• ¼ tsp baking powder
• 1 ½ tsp ground cardamom
• ½ cup icing sugar, sifted
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 2 tsp rosewater
• 2 tblsp finely chopped pistachios

 

1. To clarify butter, place in a small pan over low heat for 4-6 minutes and allow it to melt gently. Remove from heat and pour into a small heatproof jug. Set aside for 1-2 minutes until it separates into two layers – a milky, white layer on the bottom and the liquid (clarified) butter on top. Discard any skin that might have formed, then measure out ½ cup of clarified butter. Discard the milk solids.
2. Meanwhile, combine the flour, baking powder, ¼ tsp of salt and cardamom in a bowl. Stir with a whisk to aerate.
3. Place icing sugar in a bowl and whisk in the clarified butter. Whisk well for 1-2 minutes until smooth. Stir in the vanilla and rosewater, then stir in flour mixture.
4. Bring the mixture together with your hands until a smooth dough forms – it should be a little sandy and should just hold together when you squeeze a little in your palm.
5. Lay a large piece of baking paper, with the long side nearest to you, on the bench. Tip the dough along the length of the paper and brig it together as best you can to form a log about 4cm by 18cm. Roll the log up in the paper and twist the ends tightly in opposite directions to seal. Chill the log fro an hour or so until fairly firm.
6. Preheat the oven to 150 C and line 1 or 2 baking trays with baking paper. Unwrap the log and cut it into about 24 rounds (about ½ cm thick). Use a gentle rocking motion with the knife as the mixture will be a bit crumbly. (If the slices break up as you cut them, the dough is too cold. Leave at room temperature to warm up, then try again.)
7. Place biscuits on prepared trays, leaving a 2cm gap between each one. Gently press some pistachios onto each biscuit and bake for 20 – 25 minutes (they should be slightly darker).
8. Remove from oven and allow to firm on trays. Cool completely on a wire rack. These can be stored in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

 

Wild Mushroom Pesto

A long wade to little Mushrooms.

24^th September 2010
“Rosedale”, JERICHO

A long walk to little mushrooms

I am out west of Emerald on my parents’ cattle station for the school holidays and we’re having the wettest September we’ve ever recorded: 10 inches of rain in a month we would usually expect to be dry.

The drizzle stopped for a few hours yesterday and we went for a walk—or a slosh, more like it—over the creek. The water is still trickling in from the Range country and our usual crossings are now little torrents and waterfalls. We crawled through the barbed wire fence into the Ram Paddock and found hundreds of mushrooms growing. It was so exciting. Finding mushrooms out here is like finding a pot of gold beneath a rainbow. We only ever have mushrooms in rare seasons like this.

We gathered a few handfuls between us and I went home—back through the fence, through the mud,  through the grass and into the kitchen—to create something exciting.

This recipe just uses what we happened to have – you could use cream instead of fetta, and try a different herb if you don’t happen to have a prolific basil-hedge in your backyard like my mother’s. All my proportions are approximates.

 

 

Wild Mushroom Pesto

• 250g fresh field mushrooms
• Large handful fresh basil
• 1 tblsp olive oil
• ¼ cup goats’ fetta, drained well
• ¼ cup walnut pieces
• Salt and pepper

 

1. Wash mushrooms (very thoroughly, in my case, to remove remnants of cow dung) and chop into small pieces. Chop the basil very finely and combine with the mushrooms in a saucepan. Stir in the olive oil, cover, and allow to stew for a few minutes until well reduced.
2. Crumble the fetta into the saucepan and stir over heat until melted through the mushrooms. Remove from heat and add salt and pepper to taste.
3. Grind the walnuts into a coarse meal using a mortar and pestle or a food processor. (The mixture should not be as fine as almond meal – it is nice to have some crunchy bits!) Stir into the mushroom mixture.
   - The mixture should not be runny. You may need to add more walnut meal to absorb the mushroom juices.
4. Serve the mushroom pesto warm on top of small toasts or crackers as a canapé to have with pre-dinner drinks. Or, pile onto toast for a delicious breakfast!

Orange-Polenta Cakes

Flour free and low in sugar.

I adapted this from a recipe for lemon polenta cupcakes. The oranges make these cakes quite naturally sweet so I have reduced the sugar content significantly; I also replaced some with stevia. I once made the mistake of substituting stevia for all the sugar in a flourless orange almond cake; it was like a big, sweet, orange-flavoured fritatta. I decided some sugar was necessary for texture and consistency!

Ingredients

• 150g unsalted butter, softened
• 1/4 cup caster sugar
• 12 scoops powdered stevia (or another 1/4 cup sugar)
• 3 eggs
• 3/4 cup polenta
• 2 teaspoons gluten-free baking powder
• 1 1/2 cups almond meal
• grated rind of 1 orange
• 1/3 cup orange pulp and juice

Method

1. Preheat oven to 180°C and grease a 12-hole, 1/3 cup-capacity muffin pan.
2. Using an electric mixer, beat butter sugar and stevia until pale and creamy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Sift polenta and baking powder over butter mixture. Add almond meal, orange rind and juice. Stir to combine.
3. Spoon mixture into prepared holes. Smooth tops. Bake for 25 minutes or until a skewer inserted in the centre of 1 cake comes out clean. Allow to cool in the pan for 5 minutes. Squeeze a little orange juice over the top of the warm cakes, if you like,  then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. Serve at room temperature with thick Greek yoghurt and honey.