Ceviche, Guinea Pig and the Best Potatoes of Your Life: Eight Things To Eat and Drink in Peru

Ever been to a restaurant where everything on the menu looks so good it’s almost annoying? That’s the beautiful frustration of eating in Peru: every meal offers too many opportunities. I’ve never been more aware – or ashamed – of my limited stomach capacity than I was during Intrepid’s Classic Peru trip. The nine-day adventure took me and a handful of other travellers from Lima into the Andes and to Machu Picchu via Cusco, making a final stop on the shores of Lake Titicaca before flying back to the capital. At the start, I did the maths on how much I’d be able to eat during my Peruvian holiday – nine days, 27 meals, hopefully ample snacks – and I felt a little sad: I would barely be scratching the surface.

Fortunately, Intrepid did me a solid. The trip gave me everything I’d wanted (ceviche and Pisco Sours on repeat), but more importantly, the Classic Peru itinerary’s distinct Andean flavour introduced me to countless new dishes – and emboldened me to try them. You won’t get to eat everything during your time in Peru; there’s just too much to get through. So instead, I’ll give you the A-list: a greatest-hits album of Peruvian dishes to tick off on your first time here. Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty left for next time.

Our tour leader, Luis, is from Cusco and has spent most of his life in the Andes. He was like the Swiss Army knife of people – whether it was his fluency in indigenous Quechua, his encyclopaedic knowledge of the Incan empire, or just his impeccable sense of humour, our small group was always discovering new ways for him to make our lives easier. Every time we shared a meal as a group, Luis would order a tall glass of chicha morada. And given he had a knack for ordering the best thing off the menu, Broadsheet photographer Brook and I pretty soon adopted the habit of just copying his order – down to the drink. We’re glad we did. This sweet, blood-red number is made with purple corn and tastes a little like mulled wine if it was cold (and didn’t make you drunk). Try it – you won’t be able to get enough. If you do need a break though, I suggest a bottle of Inca Kola, Peru’s ubiquitous soft drink, which outsells Coca-Cola nationally.

I knew potatoes were South American, but I only learned that they were native to the Andes on my trip. In hindsight it should have been obvious, because Peruvians really know their way around a potato. No, seriously: you will have the best potatoes of your life in Peru. Everywhere you look in the Andes, you’ll see evidence of the trusty tuber’s cultural centrality, from the mounds of chuño (dried potatoes that last a decade or more) that Luis would point out by the roadside, to the packets of heirloom potato chips at every local shop.

A highlight of the trip was when our group visited the Amaru community in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. Its residents showed us their potato harvest, and I’d never seen so many different kinds: some knobbly like ginger, others deeply crimson and shaped like starchy roses. All of them tasted incredible at lunch later on. My advice is simple: if you see potatoes on the menu in Peru (and you will), order them.

Lunch at Amaru had other surprises in store. Our small group came from different walks of life, but we were united by our determination to eat as many different foods as possible. So, at our request, Luis arranged for us to try the ultimate Andean delicacy: guinea pig. You’ll see dozens of tourist-geared guinea-pig-themed restaurants in the Andes, usually emblazoned with a cartoon guinea pig who looks suspiciously happy. But the animal is traditionally only eaten on ceremonial occasions. So trying it in a more respectful context, roasted reverently by a Quechuan family, was a special experience. I would like to think I’m the kind of person who would independently try guinea pig if I were here alone, but frankly, I have a patchy track record with adventurous eating; Bourdain, I am not. But thanks to the trip’s group format, and all the (positive) encouragement and peer pressure that came with it, I tucked in with gusto. Now that I’m back home, I don’t think I’ll be getting a hankering for roast guinea pig anytime soon, but I can at least say I’ve tried it.

The Incan empire’s vast network of highways once allowed a fish caught on the Peruvian coast to be relayed deep into the Andes in time to reach the emperor’s plate in Cusco while it was still fresh. Me? I like eating seafood when I’m by the water. So I had the Lima portion of my trip earmarked as “ceviche time”. Peru’s iconic dish – a tangle of marinated raw fish, Andean corn, red onion ribbons and sweet potato slivers – didn’t disappoint. (Be sure to order a glass of leche de tigre, the ceviche marinade, on its own too.) Because Intrepid’s Classic Peru trip begins and ends in Lima’s trendy Miraflores district, I duly bookended my holiday with ceviche.

Peru has sandwich fever, and you’ll see sangucherías selling them all over. Every option at one of these shops is a banger, but I particularly loved the pan con chicharron, a breakfast-time number filled with fried pork, red onion and thin slices of sweet potato. Don’t stress about finding the absolute best spot either – even the touristy diners will blow whatever you’re used to at home out of the water.

As an Australian, I’m well-practised at eating animals the world associates with my country. So I was excited to discover that Peru’s alpacas don’t just contribute their wool to comfy socks and scarves, they actually taste pretty great, too. Alpaca risotto, alpaca anticucho skewers, alpaca steaks – I had it all and it was excellent, like a cross between lamb and venison. Give it a go when you come here, and you’ll be in for a pleasant surprise.

Remember the quinoa superfood craze a few years ago? That never hit Peru, because its peoples have been eating this nutritious little seed for thousands of years. Quinoa was first domesticated in the Lake Titicaca basin. It’s no wonder, then, that the best quinoa of my Intrepid trip came during our homestay at a village on the high-altitude lake’s famous shores. We spent a day and a half living in the village and staying with its people. And the opener to every meal with them was, invariably, quinoa soup. Take some quinoa, a bit of spice, a handful of common herbs and vegetables, plus a few thousand years of know-how, and you end up with something really magic.

If you’re a chicken reading this article, I have some advice for you: don’t move to Peru. I’ve never seen more chicken-focused restaurants in my life, and the majority of them serve one thing: pollo a la brasa. It’s rotisserie-style chicken, and every barbeque joint has its own closely guarded spice recipe. One night in Puno, the gateway city to Lake Titicaca, Luis took us to one of his favourite chicken spots. He took us off away from the main square into a low-lit, unassuming restaurant that none of us, in a million years, would have been able to find without him (and after some wrangling, he somehow magicked up an off-menu dinner for the lone vegetarian among us). Wow. A quarter chicken and chips has never tasted so good – especially covered in uchucuta, a vivid green salsa that graces most tabletops in Peru. Brook certainly seemed to think so: he ordered a second serving before he’d even finished his first. Later on he would regret his gluttony, but man, he was really having the time of his life at that table, sucking every bone dry. Just another meal in Peru, where your mouth will write cheques your stomach can’t cash.

This article is produced by Broadsheet in partnership with Intrepid. Intrepid’s Classic Peru tour is a nine-day, eight-night guided trip that includes all transport and accommodation. Starting and concluding in Lima, it covers all of the locations above (and more). Discover more here.