To Begin: A Favorite Meal

From my perch on the red stone wall, I saw the bite and the spitting that followed. We had traveled all morning through the south of Peru. Our journey began in Cusco at about four in the morning, and ended in Puno later that day, but we had stopped in the meantime at a roadside ranch. The bus ride had been a pleasant one, and though I was exhausted, I had remained awake much of the time. There was something about the way the earth took shape that drew me in. On each side of the road, large grassy hills rose to peaks. The road moved in an almost straight line, and farmers with their herds of Alpacas sprinkled the countryside. I felt the pull I rarely have in other countries of being somewhere other than home.

Around noon, the bus full of college students had pulled over at this small ranch. Apparently our guides had arranged for our having lunch there because, when we all piled out, we found Peruvian women, young and old, sitting over large black cauldrons of boiling soup. Platters of dark red olives, salads, papaya, white cheeses, and individual triangular shaped breads were spread around on wooden tables. We were given various red clay pottery to eat from and silverware. Choosing the simpler fare, I took some bread and olives and a woman served me a portion of the bubbling soup. It was then I sat on the red stone wall to enjoy one of the finest culinary dishes of my experience. The bread was crusty on the outside and the olives were fresh. The dish was a golden quinoa soup. I did not at the time know what else was in it, and to this day I have no idea what the soup was made from. I have many times searched the web looking for Peruvian soups with quinoa, but none have looked or sounded anything like this golden creation. I felt akin to Goldilocks finally settling on that perfectly cooked porridge.

As I ate, I watched the alpacas saunter across the lawn. They were amiable to a point, but not so far as to let us pet them. However, we had with us a rather brazen professor of religion who must have thought himself superior to the alpaca. He of course would not take no for an answer and walked directly up to a brown and white one, determined to pet it. The animal lashed back in rage, biting the professor's hand. Rather than run like many of us might have, he looked straight at the alpaca and spit back. All this I saw from my perch and smiled with amusement. Having experienced the professor's antics for some time I felt he had it coming. He of course responded in character, determined still to get the better of the creature.

From then it was on to Puno and Lake Titicaca. But for me, the entire day revolved around that simple country fare. If any Peruvians or others out there in cyberspace know of such a soup, please do share. Until then.