Cuy is a special Peruvian treat. You may be more familiar with the English name “Squeakers,” “Captain Squeakers,” “Oreo,” or “Mr. Fuzz Face.” That’s right, cuy is another name for guinea pig! It also happened to be my dinner the other day in Cuzco, Peru. Believe it or not, my most expensive meal thus far on the trip, was a rodent. We went out on a mission that night, not to be denied. I assumed I would find my meal of cuy in some hole-in-the-wall joint, but for lack of better Spanish and being in an unfamiliar town, we had to rely on the recommendations of our hostel’s front desk. Unfortunately, such people always presume that as Americans, we actually prefer the fancy spots and that we like spending as much as we possibly can on food. So after striking out at our first recommendation, we were redirected to what happened to be a very fancy restaurant. It was already well after 8pm so we decided to give it a try. After having too long to think about it, Chrislyn got cold feet. (I should note that this was for the best, because if she hadn’t, I most certainly would have had two cuy on my plate and a third meal on my bill before too long).
When my meal finally arrived, it came in style. Standing up on its haunches, wearing a tomato helmet, and proudly flashing its crooked teeth. Being the fancy restaurant that it was, my meal received quite a few stares and looks of horror and disgust. Two tourists requested photos of my meal. No one requested a sample taste. Unsure of where I should start, I grabbed my fork and knife to attempt to disassemble the cuy. Quite fortunately, the waiter stopped me, taking the dish back to the kitchen where they swiftly quartered the cuy with a cleaver, this time leaving the head behind when they returned.
It still took quite a bit of time to separate the skin from the meat and to eat off of those tiny legs. Somewhat reluctantly, Chrislyn took her obligatory bite. Neither she nor I were too taken with the taste. It had been stuffed with some sort of herb before being deep fried whole. I’m convinced that this probably wasn’t the best way to eat a cuy, but I’m also convinced that cuy will never be my favorite food. Either way, it had to be done. I couldn’t be in Peru and not try it. To all of those who currently have a guinea pig in their lives, I suggest NOT cooking it. They’re better pets than entrees. Thanks for reading and sharing in our adventures!
