How many of your have read Eat, Pray, Love?
I have. I was reluctant to read it after I started planning my trip because I was aware of the obvious similarities between me and the author: a woman who is not entirely happy with her life decides to up and travel for a year, hoping to satisfy herself in ways that she was unable to while at home in the States blah blah blah.
But, I read it. It was actually given to me by one of my beloved clients, Anne, who promised I would like it, so I started it the day I got to Lima and finished it a little over a week later. I won’t ruin it for those of you who haven’t read it, but basically, those three words in the title are the names of the three main sections of the book and they encapsulate the main theme of her travels in that particular area of the book.
So, far, I am sorry to admit that if I were to title my first chapter, it being about south America, its title would also have to be Eat. Or maybe Gorge. Yes, dear readers, I’ve probably gained somewhere between 5 and 10 pounds. Damn it,
In this two part blog entry that I started writing last week, we will examine food and my eating habits in particular in South America so far (I am currently on a bus from Argentina to Brazil and I’m seriously hoping my diet changes considerably in the next, oh, 5 hours. If my plan works, we may have a chapter titled Starve written later.) Part I will be about food before Argentina. Argentina... well, Argentina needs its own chapter, so that will be Part II.
Below is the entry I wrote before my waistline expanded even more in Argentina.
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I would bet you my slowly dwindling savings that if I were to call my grandmother, one of the first 3 questions out of her mouth would be, “How’s the food there?” (One of the other 2 questions would of course be if I’ve found a boyfriend yet.)
And sorry, Dad, but you are your mother’s son... You have already asked me on a few occasions about the food here in South America. (Do you remember when you last asked me that online and my response was ‘Hahaha, remember that you asked me that”? I had already written this entry and was just waiting for that to come out of your mouth again.) To be fair, I’m sure any proper Italian-American would ask too ;)
So, what’s the food like? What am I eating? Have I had ‘Bolivian Belly’ yet?
Food in most countries is still dictated by geography, farming habits, and economy. What I mean by that is that if a country like, say Peru, has a diverse climate and geography, some low elevations by the water, some really high elevations hundreds of miles from water, and dense Amazon forest and all of these areas are poor (in comparison to most other countries,) then no, you’re not going to eat steak all of the time there. If you do order steak, it’s not a fresh cut of meat from a healthy cow who has been grazing in green pastures all its life (well, neither has the cow in the U.S. who has been fed corn-feed and fattened up by drugs and and... and I’ll let my diatribe on U.S. food go for now...)
There has been one consistent meal so far in South America, from Peru to Bolivia to Chile to Argentina, and that meal is breakfast. Breakfast, or desayuno, consists of the same thing every day: coffee and bread. Sometimes the bread is just hardened slices off a baguette, sometimes it is croissants, and other times it is a round roll (like one that you’d use for a sandwich.)
With just that information, you should no longer be wondering why I’ve gained weight. Almost all current popular diets will decrease your carb content to decrease calorie consumption. My former trainer self reminds myself of this every single day as I’m eating my second croissant, but then I respond with, “Alison, you are living on $50 a day and this breakfast is free! Eat 2 more croissants and maybe you can skip lunch!”
Moving on. In Lima, Peru, I ate a lot of fish, trout in particular. I also tried ceviche, a dish made of raw fish that has been cured in acidic lime juices, because it is a regional specialty, but it didn’t suite my tastes. When I got to Cusco, I had just been dealt a mean case of altitude sickness, so I didn’t eat much at all for a few days. Then, because we were at altitude, my appetite diminished tremendously, so I would usually eat one meal a day. These meals were almost always something that I thought my body could handle, like pasta, soup, or grilled fish.
In Cusco, there were a few delicacies that I was too scared to try, one of which was Cui, or guinea pig. They’re quite popular there. We actually saw a menu that showed a photo of what looked like a mix between a fuzzy baby chick and a baby guinea pig with an arrow pointing to the next picture of a full, roasted, guinea pig. Spelling it out like that was more of a turn-off than anything else for me, so I never did try it. Another option that I did end up trying (by force) was llama. A llama steak kind of has the consistency of pork and I wasn’t a huge fan. I think I prefer llamas in those cute knitted hats that I saw them in.
Also, in all of Peru, various kind of potatoes are HUGE, so you eat them with EVERYTHING. They come in the form of french fries, sliced potatoes, and everything in between. When I was in Peru, I was already at the end of my ability to eat any more potatoes and it was only my first South American country.
In between Peru and Bolivia, when we stayed on the islands of Lake Titicaca, we ate soup and potatoes. The first time we had them, they were good. The second time they were okay. The third time, I thought that if I had the same soup and potatoes again, I’d lose it. I was told that basically those are their main staples and once a week they will go to another island or the main land to buy a piece of meal or fish.
In Boliva, the food is similar to the high-altitude Peruvian food. I was staying at a hostel that catered to western backbackers though, so the hostel menu was similar to what you’d have in the U.S. for a quick lunch: sandwiches, salads, hotdogs, grilled cheese, etc. When I ventured out of the hostel to eat, I saw a plethora of rotisserie chicken places that served the chicken with, guess what, french fries!!
In Chile, if you recall my blog entries, everything was very americanized. I, however, stayed strong and didn’t eat at an American restaurant like T.G.I.F. or McDonalds once. It did help that I was staying with a friend in a house... It was in Chile, however, that I finally picked up on the fact that South Americans put mayonnaise on EVERYTHING! When my friend Tomas and I got a sandwich at a local store in Santiago, the mayo literally poured out of my sandwich when I took a bite. Gross!
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So that just about brings us up to Argentina where the food was so incredible, it needs its own entry.
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