Parwa - Comunidad de Huchuy Qosqo, Calca, Peru

If I were to have lunch in the Garden of Eden, I think it would look a lot like a glass shelter with a panoramic view of an Andean valley. Surrounded by wonders as far as the eye can see, it's hard not to believe you’re in paradise. Even the food itself is a true taste of paradise. All ingredients hail from the local valley, born from the sweat on the brow of an honest, hardworking people.

It’s only appropriate that an Eden-esque meal would start with fresh-baked Bread. The medialuna-like twists are soft and still warm, and the pinwheels are laced with something green that tastes like chaya. 

Over 2500 varieties of potatoes grow in the Andes, and I have yet to find a single one I don't like. Same with whatever guacamole-green variety grows into this cold Causa. This mashed potato cake is filling and dense, a combination of avocado-guac, and the sliver of trout on top makes me want more.

I've had tons of Tamales, but this one was just divine. The finely-ground cornmeal has a softer, sweeter finish, smoother and less gritty than any all the others. A few chopped cubes of pico de gallo add a cool, crunchy contrast.

The Salad is a sampling of almost everything that grows. The local lettuce is a little buttery like butter lettuce and a little bit waxy like kale. The carrots and cauliflower are as sweet as forbidden fruit, and a simple dressing brings it all together.

The Pumpkin Soup is thick and a little bit fibrous, standing strong like its deep Andean roots. All the tranquil comfort of the lustrous green valleys sitting in a single bowl.

A deep fried Rocoto Pepper lightens the heavy ground meat-and-veggie stuffing, basically a pot pie in a pepper. This tiny, firm, yet-another-Andean-potato-whose-name-I-can’t-remember is one of the better varieties we’ve tried.

I've never had Quinoa I liked, and IMHO it’s America’s most overrated food. The gritty grains don’t hold flavor, and the texture made me feel like I faceplanted on a beach. Clearly, I’d never had quinoa in paradise because these smooth, fine grains are infused with a tender, savory chicken that soaks through every little grain. This stuff was good enough to make the Asian in me swear off rice.

The Purple Corn Pudding is pulpy like an apple pie without the apple and dark like a red-wine grape. So much gooey goopy-goop seasoned with cinnamon and spiced with cloves. The little nobbin of crumbly Cornbread adds a savory afterthought.

They really don't make things like they used to, but Parwa maintains Peruvian tradition in its purest form. Every bite is exquisitely crafted to capture the essence of the Andes. We didn’t get to see much more of the Sacred Valley, but it’s easy to see what makes it sacred.

Cicciolina - Cusco

It's pretty, it's trendy, and there's no item on the menu I wouldn't want to try. That red-and-black mood-lit, smoking-lounge-with-no-smoking ambiance beckons, and there’s no way to resist snagging a Pisco sour and a seat at the bar.

It was still day one of acclimation, which entails feeling a little drunk and hung over all at once. Nothing cures a hangover like a Cheese Platter, and this one definitely hit the spot. The Andean cheese tastes like a very mild cheddar with the texture of fermented mozzarella and a touch of Parmesan thrown in. The brie is creamy, the Manchego crumbles smooth, and the blue cheese stinks it up in the best way possible.

Acclimation was our warm-up for the long hike ahead, and the BBQ Scallops were our sneak preview. The flame-kissed flavor was the ashes of a warm campfire, and the creamy avocado was sweet like a breath of mountain air.

The altitude was making me feel a little out of it, but the house-made Duck Prosciutto made me feel out-of-this-world. The thick, smoked slices are ripe with flavor, and the mango and curry vinaigrette was an unnecessary extra on a prosciutto that was too good for extras.

I loved everything I ate and it wasn't because of the Pisco goggles, but Cicciolina had yet to show me anything memorable aside from the prosciutto, I hadn't encountered anything truly memorable…until the Alpaca Carpaccio. Thinly sliced raw alpaca packs a powerful punch. The meat is clean and light like the tenderest beef but so much better. The huacatay oil enhances the boldness, the crunchy chilies carry a kick, and the goat cheese is the whipped cream on top.

I didn’t get to try too much in Cuzco, but if all acclimation tasted like alpaca, I could probably get used to any altitude.

Aguaymanto - Cusco

I love llamas but it turns out they kind of suck. First of all, they are lazy. A horse will bear whatever load you place upon it, risking its own injury just to trudge it up whatever hill lies ahead. A llama loaded with a single ounce over 15-20 kilos refuses to move. But the Incas appreciated this quality and called the llama sacred so apparently laziness is a virtue for a people who cut perfect stones and hauled them out of a quarry and up a mountain. 

Even alpacas are better than llamas in almost every way. Their fur is softer, they’re smaller and cuter, and the meat is tender and cholesterol-free .The Alpaca Saltada is so tender that a butterknife slides right through, and the rest of this traditional Peruvian stir-fry has perfectly-cooked fresh veggies that would make any Asian auntie proud.

South America meets North America in the form of an Alpaca Burger. The patty is lighter but a tiny bit gamier than beef and makes a party in the mouth with a stringy cheese that gets better with every bite. The sesame bun has brioche-y flair, and as much as I objected to getting a burger in Peru, this one packs pizzazz.

All that alpaca packs quite a bit of salt, and those potatoes just dry you out. There’s no better way to rehydrate than a Mango Juice that tastes like a smoothie. Aguaymanto takes pride in their juice blends, and they put Jamba Juice to shame.

Aguaymanto is a pretty name, borrowed from the Inca Cherry, which has the texture and taste of a smooth white cherry crossed with a cherry tomato. The ones we sampled were organic, like over 75% of Aguaymanto's menu, and I wouldn’t mind sampling more.

Drinks of Peru

Inka Cola

There are only three letters that adequately describe one's first encounter with Inka Cola: W, T, and F. This benign yellow liquid is an unexpected assault, a mish mash of cream soda supersaturated with bubble gum and cotton candy on crack. The sheer volume of sugar is impressive, along the lines of being stirred in while boiling like real southern sweet tea to make it fit. All the drama of a Latina soap opera crammed into the confines of one innocuous plastic bottle.

Cuzquena Beer

China has its Tsingtao, Colorado has its Coors, and Cuzco has Cusquena. A smooth standard beer, Cusquena sips smooth and tastes like a few drops of Dos Equis mixed into a bottle of Chang
.

Chicha Morada

Purple is my favorite color so purple corn juice wasn't much of a stretch. This stuff of the Andes is a thick, blended pulp, a literal corn syrup with cinnamon and cloves, like a better-tasting precursor to Pepsi.

Pisco Sour

Many a friendship is forged over a first drink, and the first drink in Peru should always be the Pisco Sour. This one is a deceptively strong combination of 60-70 proof pisco with lime and a frothy egg white foam. Even if you don't like it at first, a few sips will have you embracing it... And probably everyone around you... With open arms.

The Pisco Sour isn’t for everybody…well actually it kind of IS for everybody who goes to Peru. And if you’re really not lovin’ the lime, at least try to get passionate about the passion fruit and try the one with Maracuya. 

Punto Azul - Miraflores

Once you get through the first meal, the second is easier to find. And what a find this was! Punto Azul, a literal blue dot on the map from our hotel, is a dot to remember. Trendy and modern, the décor exudes its charm, and the whole place vibrates with a lively buzz.

Like the staff, the Pulpo Mediterraneo gave us a warm welcome with open…tentacles, a spiral set on a bed of potato and a pretty plate. The octopus was just so slightly grill-seared, staying soft and simple with an accent of olive oil and salt.

The Wantan de Pescado was a generous helping, a shareable plate with purse-pockets of cream cheese and fish. An upgraded Crab Rangoon and perfect for our nine-person table of gringos.

The Chocolate Mousse was a little less memorable, but it was good enough for us to eat every last bite.

Just when I thought I was getting the hang of navigating my way through Peru, I ordered the Leche de Tigre, which turns out to be not actually ceviche, just the juice. As much as I love appetizers, the idea of drinking ceviche juice to prepare for ceviche wasn’t all that appealing. Totally my fault, though, and plus, the juice is flawless.

There are few things tastier than ceviche juice...Except ceviche juice with the ceviche, and the Ceviche Punto Azul roars with a limey, barely-spicy pepper sauce that makes one heck of a first impression.

The Ceviche Pescado is more traditional and just as unforgettable. Look up "perfect Peruvian ceviche," and this flavor blend of fresh fish with salt, lemon, and hot peppers is likely to appear.

Since the first meal doesn’t matter, it’s the second meal that sets the tone. And if the tone for this trip was determined by Punto Azul, I would call it traditional with a side of sass.

How to eat your way through Peru: A journey to Machu Picchu in the belly of a glutton

It used to be that a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. Nowadays a journey of a thousand miles starts at the airport. After removing all non-essential clothing and posing for a scanner that literally undresses you with its eyes, you board with anticipation for the journey that lies ahead. 

For me, the journey of a thousand miles also starts with a knife and fork, and more often than not, tasting a country is just as satisfying as seeing it. The monuments are majestic, and there’s no doubt you’ll feast your eyes. You’ll revel in the sound of a beautiful language, you’ll laugh and cringe at culture, and your skin will bask in the sun and soak in the rain. You’ll also inhale deeply over a plate of food you’ve never conceived of, taking in the smell of seasoning you’ll never see again.

I used to think that the first meal mattered the most because it could set the tone for your trip. You can start a trip on a savory note, a sweet note, a sour note, a sweet n’ sour note, but heaven forbid you start it on the wrong note.

Now that I’ve toiled in the heat of Central Lima, I no long think that is true. The first meal is not what matters the most. What matters most is that you can navigate a foreign country well enough to actually find a place to eat. 

That said, we were starving by the time we ducked into a random restaurant several blocks off the Plaza de Armas. The street signs made no sense, there was just no way we were going to find Tanta before we killed each other from hanger.  

I don’t even remember the name of the restaurant, but people stared at me when I walked in. Surrounded by Spanish, with not a single gringo to be seen, this little Lima offshoot so obscure I can't remember its name.

The two-course menu was a good deal for lunch, but I had to keep telling myself that as I gagged on the half-egg over a mayo-heavy Potato Salad with "Rosa sauce", which was basically more mayo with a pinkish tint.

The main dishes were much better, and the Arroz con Pollo, with juicy stew chicken and moist seasoned rice put a rapid end to any regrets and a rapid start to an epic adventure.

The Lechon was a slab of fatty pork with white rice and a wheel of potato, which ended up being the perfect preview to Peru. The potato was my favorite part of that dish, and I had no idea just how much potatoes would take over my life for the rest of the trip…

Kogi BBQ Taco Truck - Los Angeles

There is nothing sexier than novelty in a world that knows no bounds. In a world where inaccessibility is just a memory from many days past, novelty may soon become obsolete. But just a few years ago, there was a new trend, a revolution in the concept of fine food. Suddenly we were no longer restricted to a restaurant, no longer glued to our pre-reserved seats.

Whether it stemmed from our inner hunter-gatherer urge to seek your own food, to go forth and find and provide, it seemed like everyone was following the food trucks.Taco trucks run especially rampant, with every ingredient in every combination on every kind of tortilla. But let's not forget the common ancestor, the one that spawned the rest, the one and only Kogi. 

You should never have a food without knowing where it came from, and every moving taco you've had is in some way descended from Kogi. And when you try the Spicy Pork Tacos willed with soft cubes of pork cooked into hours of perfection, it's not hard to see the dynasty that rose. 

And as I bit into the iconic Short Rib Tacos that started it all, I lapped up the juice dripping through my fingers, felt my mouth was burst with salsa and crunched through shreds of slaw held together by corn tortillas that remained miraculously soft and sog-proof, all I could think was: So THIS is the taco that launched a thousand food trucks and changed the face of food on wheels.