One of the most unique (and controversial) food experiences I’ve had was eating deep fried guinea pig – cuy – in Peru.

I’m a big foodie, and love sampling local dishes wherever I go. I truly believe that food is one of the great pleasures of life, and that one of the best ways to get to know a country is by eating the food that the locals eat.

Do Peruvians really eat cute little guinea pigs?

Yes. Yes they do. But not everyone, and not often, anymore.

Guinea pigs live wild in the mountains around the higher areas of Peru and have been eaten as part of the diet in the highlands for centuries. They are quite finicky to prepare, are rather small so don’t yield too much meat, so are quite expensive. Therefore, they are now usually only eaten for special occasions, such as celebrating birthdays, or religious holidays such as Easter and certain saint’s days. Nowadays there aren’t many of them running about and most used for food come from guinea pig farms – similar to farms that rear chickens or pigs for food, and they are considered a delicacy.

Not everyone in Peru eats cuy, and it is difficult to find it out with the mountainous regions. Children sometimes keep pet guinea pigs in Peru too, like in many other countries such as the UK, around Europe, Canada and USA, so a lot of people don’t want to eat it there either for that reason. Guinea pig souvenir soft toys are popular too, being the county’s second most emblematic animal, after the alpaca.

Before I went to Peru, I’d heard about it being eaten. Since I always want to sample the local thing, am not very squeamish, and feel I have a stomach of steel (which I attribute to having grown up eating haggis – not daily, but on the assigned occasions), I was determined to try the tiny mammal.

First taste – Deep-fried cuy in a Peruvian restaurant in Mira Flores

The first time I tried cuy was in October 2013, while I was working as Band Vocalist on board the M/S Statendam (which has since been sold to P & O Australia). The ship stopped in the port of Callao (the port for Lima) for three days, and I was excited to experience this fascinating country, which was new for me.

My first day in Peru was spent exploring the vibrant capital city Lima with friends. After some sightseeing, tummies were rumbling, so we headed to the Mira Flores district of the city, famous for its array of restaurants.

With my group of international friends in tow – three Englishmen, a French Canadian, and myself a Scot, (I know, it sounds like the start of a joke) I went in search of an authentic local restaurant in this beautiful, but quite touristy part of Lima. After a little wandering, with me asking anyone who looked like a local, where they’d recommend trying real local dishes, we found one.

We sat down at the sturdy table in the cozy traditional Peruvian restaurant, which was decorated with bright colors on the walls and full of well-used comfortable wooden furniture. The waitress introduced herself as Rosario and greeted us warmly. I told her that we wanted to sample a few typical Peruvian dishes, and asked what her recommendation would be for a group of five to share. Her answer: lomo salteado (salted pork), calamari ceviche (raw squid rings marinated in fresh lime juice), camarones piccante con arroz (spicy shrimps with rice) and the most special dish, cuy – guinea pig.

My dining companions were happy enough with the other dishes, but one in particular was a little anxious about the cuy, having had a pet guinea pig as a child. He nervously asked if it would look like a guinea pig, and said he wouldn’t be sampling that dish. Rosario returned quickly with a round of delicious pisco sours on the house, apparently as a reward for my ordering in Spanish and us wanting to sample the real local fare. (Pisco Sours is the most popular Peruvian cocktail made with Peruvian brandy, lime and sour mix in it, and I highly recommend it!)

We toasted friendship and new experiences, and soon after, the food arrived. First came the pork – which looked innocent enough, served with green vegetables in a slightly spicy marinade, and was easy enough for all to get onboard with. Seconds later the shrimps arrived – again, everyone dug in quickly, and enjoyed the juicy seafood and rice to soak them up with. Next, the calamari was served – this being the only one that I’m not that partial to, not being a fan of the texture, but we all gave it a shot anyway, in the name of trying the local thing. Finally came the main event – the guinea pig.

It was served deep fried, and on a large plate of its own. It had been covered in a light batter, and dipped in a very hot fryer, making its skin look (and taste) sort of like crispy duck. However, the difference was that the head, feet, tiny claws and even teeth were still on it, and it was very clear what we were about to eat.

Everyone just glared at it. The friend who had been a guinea pig keeper as a child looked away in terror and exclaimed, “I can’t! It’s monstrous!” The rest of us looked at each other sheepishly, and then I found my kindred spirit in my friend Mike, who said, “Let’s name him Gus.” I nodded approval.

Then, without speaking, we grabbed our cutlery and each cut off a small piece off the hind of the tiny beast. The other three watched us in fascination/disgust as we cheers-ed the creature and popped the morsel in our mouths. We chewed and savored the flavor thoughtfully. Then both laughed together “Tastes like chicken!” This was a joke to relax the others, which sort of worked. The cuy actually had a much more complex flavor than the common fowl.

To me, it tastes like a cross between duck, rabbit and pork, which I think makes sense. The guinea pig is a lot smaller than a pig, so it makes sense that the flavor is more intense. It would run around a lot so be quite muscular and is a small mammal like a rabbit, so is quite gamey. However, it also stores fat well like a duck, hence the richness.

I have to say, it was delicious.

One by one, the others gradually joined us in tasting Gus, with the guinea pet owner being the last to give in. Finally, after the other four reassured him it tasted like other meat he’d eaten before, we put a very small slither of the meat on a fork for him and hid the actual animal under a napkin so he didn’t have to look at it.

He scrunched up his face and placed it in his mouth. He chewed, scrunched a bit more, and swallowed the miniscule piece, with such a horrified expression on his face it looked as if he’d eaten his actual pet guinea pig – then washed it down with a large swig of Pisco. He did not have any more of Gus, but the rest of us tucked in.

We ate the cuy like you would an oven roasted chicken, by taking pieces of the meat off in chunks onto our plates, then cutting it into smaller bites to chew. Another of the ‘guinea gang’ friends was a pianist called Michel, who happens to be on the ship with me again now.

Even though several of my friends have berated me since for sampling this, I am glad I did it, and I did enjoy it.

So, I ate it again.

Second taste – Oven cooked in a Peruvian home, from Cusco

The next opportunity I had to sample Peru’s mini mammal came almost five years later on my following trip to Peru – in September 2018.

Returning to Peru with another ship, the M/S Maasdam, this time sailing as wife onboard with my husband Nick, I was lucky enough to go on a three-day overland tour to Machu Picchu and Cusco. (LINK)

I’d told my husband Nick about my experience with eating guinea pig on my first trip, and him also being a fearless foodie, he was keen to try it too.

I looked for cuy on the menu in every restaurant I ate at on the tour in Lima, Cusco, and Machu Picchu town to no avail. As I said, it is a delicacy, made for special occasions, and wasn’t served at any buffet. I presumed this was due to probably equal part restaurants not wanting to freak out tourists that may not want to see it, it’s difficulty to prepare, and the expense of it in case a group of 25 people did all want to try it. Nick looked for it in every restaurant he saw in Callao and Lima, also with no luck.

Our tour guide Rocio had been excellent at every part of the tour, and I’d told her about my quest for cuy. She called ahead to the restaurants we’d be dining at to see if it’d be possible for me to put in a special order to try it. None of them even had it on the menu. Not to be put off though, she went one step further.

Even though she doesn’t enjoy guinea pig herself, Rocio has a friend who cooks it and sells it in her stall opposite the airport in Cusco. So, she called said friend Natalia the day before we were to fly out, and requested her to cook and bring in a guinea pig for me to purchase the next morning before we left.

So, after making sure all the guests were checked in and safely through security at the airport, Rocio took me over to Natalia’s stall. There were all manner of delicious local artisan products: cheese, coffee, chocolate, and – on special occasions, or by special request – cuy.

Rocio bought her usual favorite cheese, while I stocked up with gifts of chocolate, coffee, and, all wrapped up securely for travel, my very own cuy.

Incidentally, if you wish to purchase any food souvenirs from Cusco (and you are able to take them back on the plane to your ship or home), I’d recommend visiting Natalia’s stall. She sells a plethora of high quality locally produced artisan products.

Giggling at our adventure, we made our way into the airport, to catch our flight to Lima. After arriving back at the ship and saying our goodbyes, I came back onboard excited to give Nick his special present from the trip.

I first gave him the new mug I bought him from the market in Machu Picchu, which had the Jurassic Park logo and font, but instead of a T-Rex, had the silhouette of an alpaca’s head and read “Llamastic Park”. Being an avid Jurassic Park fan (see my article on how we got together), he enjoyed the pun.

I then handed him the piece de resistance.

He eyed the tightly wrapped bundle carefully, and then realized it must be food – his favorite type of present. He started to pull open the papers quickly, like a child with a Christmas present, and I advised him to do it slowly. He looked a little puzzled, but obliged.

When he opened the final layer, he stared at it blankly. Then looked over at me. He peered at me like a cat owner gaping at his feline who had just presented him with a dead bird.

He seemed confused. “It’s cuy – a guinea pig. You really wanted to try it, so I got it for you.” I offered.

He just blinked again.

“It’s cooked.”

Regaining his composure, he nervously thanked me for the guinea pig while re-wrapping it in the layers of paper. He looked afraid.

It wasn’t until the next day that he got up the courage to taste it. It didn’t need heated as had been completely cooked by Natalia in her oven. It was served oven baked, so to be fair, it did look a little more intimidating – more guinea pig, less fried thing – than the version I’d had in the restaurant.
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Together we removed the skin and took off the bulk of the meat from the belly and above the rib cage and put in in a small Tupperware box. There wasn’t much to it. Then we both grabbed a morsel and tasted it together.

The richness was as I’d remembered, but without the crispy batter coating or heat to disguise it as being so different from other meats. No, there was no pretending this was anything but a guinea pig. Nick enjoyed it, and immediately took another piece. I did too.

We called some friends to see if they wanted to come over and sample it. About half of them did out of curiosity. Michel, who’d been with me for guinea pig round one, was one of them. He enjoyed it again, but just took a little to taste it. The friends that had declined the invitation had pet guinea pigs as children, or were just a bit grossed out by the idea.

Roundup

That’s my two guinea pig tasting stories. Before you berate me for eating it though, have you ever eaten rabbit? Or duck? Those are also very cute, and rabbits are often pets too. Or do you eat veal or lamb? Cows and sheep are also tame, and often called cute – and veal and lamb are their babies. They didn’t even get to grow until adulthood, like the guinea pig did.

The whole subject of what is moral to eat and what isn’t is a different subject, and I’m not passing judgment on anyone here. I also don’t think anyone can honestly pass judgment on this unless they are vegetarian or vegan. Guinea pig are not endangered, not hunted, are kept and killed humanely, and are farmed in Peru in the same way that other livestock including chickens, turkey, pigs, and cows are in many other countries.

I actually didn’t eat red meat for 20 years, because as a child I loved animals and didn’t want to eat them. As I was 10 years old when I proclaimed my vegetarian intent, my mum was concerned about me getting enough protein. So the deal we made was that I could give up red meat, but keep some white meat, and then when I grew up I could choose what to consume. It became habit. At 30 years old, I realized that I couldn’t call this a moral choice while I happily ripped the tails off lobsters to munch, and realized that I was missing out on a lot of dishes culturally in a lot of the countries I visited due to my mostly just pescatarian ways (with occasional chicken). I gradually reintroduced other meats into my diet (which yes, did make me sick to start with), so that if a local dish that I think sounds exciting happens to be meat, I will try it if I want to. I still mostly only eat seafood when I eat meat, but I opened the option.

I write this not to offend anyone, but simply to share my experience of trying this local delicacy, as I feel it did add to my experience of the country.

It’s up to you if you want to try it if you find yourself in Peru, but I would recommend it, even just once.

[Photo 11. Me with guinea pig]

If you tried guinea pig in Peru, or any other local dish that was a bit different, or even controversial, please fell free to share your (polite) comments below.