Stories
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February 9, 2023
I Ate a Rat in Peru and Lived to Crave It Again (Kind Of)





I didn’t go to Peru to face my fears—I went for the landscapes, the chaos, the flavors. But somehow, I ended up locking eyes with a fried rodent that looked like it died screaming. Welcome to the world of cuy, Peru’s most shocking delicacy. This isn’t a sanitized food blog entry. This is a story of full-sensory betrayal, culinary redemption, and the chaotic genius of Peruvian cuisine.
I didn’t go to Peru for the food. But Peruvian cuisine? It found me, challenged me, and at times, nearly wrecked me—in the best way.
If you’re Googling what to eat in Peru and expecting safe, tourist-friendly plates, let me stop you right there. Peru doesn’t hold your hand. It throws you into the fire of traditional Peruvian food with a smirk and a plate of something that may or may not still resemble its former self.
Let’s start with cuy aka guinea pig. A staple in Andean cuisine, and quite literally the most shocking dish I’ve ever made eye contact with. Roasted whole. Teeth intact. Arms out like it’s mid-fall from culinary heaven. The first time I saw it, I genuinely thought I was being pranked. But nope. That’s just cuy in Peru.
Now, if you’re brave or just too far in to back out you’ll find the flavor isn’t half bad. Gamey, tender, and almost like dark chicken thigh meat. Served without the head and limbs? Surprisingly tolerable. Still wouldn’t call it delicious, but hey—it’s one of those authentic Peruvian food experiences you’ll tell stories about.

Then there’s anticuchos de corazón, which sounds poetic until you translate it: grilled cow heart. Another favorite in the world of Peruvian street food. Skewered, marinated in garlic and vinegar, then charred to smoky perfection. It’s the kind of dish that sneaks up on you starts off as a dare and ends with you licking the stick clean.
Now let’s talk ceviche, the crown jewel of Peruvian coastal cuisine. Fresh fish “cooked” in lime juice, tossed with red onions, cilantro, and spicy aji amarillo. The first bite is pure voltage. You don’t eat ceviche you experience it. It’s citrus, fire, and ocean all happening at once. This is Peruvian seafood in its most iconic form.
Lomo saltado is where the comfort kicks in. Stir-fried beef tossed with onions, tomatoes, soy sauce, and you guessed it French fries, all served over rice. A wild but beautiful marriage of Peruvian and Chinese flavors known as chifa cuisine. And yes, it’s every bit as addictive as it sounds.
Even the drinks in Peru pull no punches. Chicha morada is a sweet, purple corn beverage that tastes like a Peruvian grandma’s version of grape soda, but with cloves and cinnamon. Then there’s the infamous Pisco Sour—a cocktail made with pisco, lime juice, egg white, and bitters. A national treasure. And also the reason you text your ex from Machu Picchu.
Peru’s food scene isn’t just diverse. It’s a collision of cultures Indigenous, Spanish, African, Chinese, and Japanese influences all wrapped into one culinary identity. Whether you’re navigating a local market in Lima or hiking your appetite through Cusco, Peruvian gastronomy doesn’t whisper. It roars.
So no, I didn’t come to Peru for the food.
But Peru’s traditional dishes? They stuck with me longer than most of the people I’ve met.
I didn’t go to Peru for the food. But Peruvian cuisine? It found me, challenged me, and at times, nearly wrecked me—in the best way.
If you’re Googling what to eat in Peru and expecting safe, tourist-friendly plates, let me stop you right there. Peru doesn’t hold your hand. It throws you into the fire of traditional Peruvian food with a smirk and a plate of something that may or may not still resemble its former self.
Let’s start with cuy aka guinea pig. A staple in Andean cuisine, and quite literally the most shocking dish I’ve ever made eye contact with. Roasted whole. Teeth intact. Arms out like it’s mid-fall from culinary heaven. The first time I saw it, I genuinely thought I was being pranked. But nope. That’s just cuy in Peru.
Now, if you’re brave or just too far in to back out you’ll find the flavor isn’t half bad. Gamey, tender, and almost like dark chicken thigh meat. Served without the head and limbs? Surprisingly tolerable. Still wouldn’t call it delicious, but hey—it’s one of those authentic Peruvian food experiences you’ll tell stories about.

Then there’s anticuchos de corazón, which sounds poetic until you translate it: grilled cow heart. Another favorite in the world of Peruvian street food. Skewered, marinated in garlic and vinegar, then charred to smoky perfection. It’s the kind of dish that sneaks up on you starts off as a dare and ends with you licking the stick clean.
Now let’s talk ceviche, the crown jewel of Peruvian coastal cuisine. Fresh fish “cooked” in lime juice, tossed with red onions, cilantro, and spicy aji amarillo. The first bite is pure voltage. You don’t eat ceviche you experience it. It’s citrus, fire, and ocean all happening at once. This is Peruvian seafood in its most iconic form.
Lomo saltado is where the comfort kicks in. Stir-fried beef tossed with onions, tomatoes, soy sauce, and you guessed it French fries, all served over rice. A wild but beautiful marriage of Peruvian and Chinese flavors known as chifa cuisine. And yes, it’s every bit as addictive as it sounds.
Even the drinks in Peru pull no punches. Chicha morada is a sweet, purple corn beverage that tastes like a Peruvian grandma’s version of grape soda, but with cloves and cinnamon. Then there’s the infamous Pisco Sour—a cocktail made with pisco, lime juice, egg white, and bitters. A national treasure. And also the reason you text your ex from Machu Picchu.
Peru’s food scene isn’t just diverse. It’s a collision of cultures Indigenous, Spanish, African, Chinese, and Japanese influences all wrapped into one culinary identity. Whether you’re navigating a local market in Lima or hiking your appetite through Cusco, Peruvian gastronomy doesn’t whisper. It roars.
So no, I didn’t come to Peru for the food.
But Peru’s traditional dishes? They stuck with me longer than most of the people I’ve met.
I didn’t go to Peru for the food. But Peruvian cuisine? It found me, challenged me, and at times, nearly wrecked me—in the best way.
If you’re Googling what to eat in Peru and expecting safe, tourist-friendly plates, let me stop you right there. Peru doesn’t hold your hand. It throws you into the fire of traditional Peruvian food with a smirk and a plate of something that may or may not still resemble its former self.
Let’s start with cuy aka guinea pig. A staple in Andean cuisine, and quite literally the most shocking dish I’ve ever made eye contact with. Roasted whole. Teeth intact. Arms out like it’s mid-fall from culinary heaven. The first time I saw it, I genuinely thought I was being pranked. But nope. That’s just cuy in Peru.
Now, if you’re brave or just too far in to back out you’ll find the flavor isn’t half bad. Gamey, tender, and almost like dark chicken thigh meat. Served without the head and limbs? Surprisingly tolerable. Still wouldn’t call it delicious, but hey—it’s one of those authentic Peruvian food experiences you’ll tell stories about.

Then there’s anticuchos de corazón, which sounds poetic until you translate it: grilled cow heart. Another favorite in the world of Peruvian street food. Skewered, marinated in garlic and vinegar, then charred to smoky perfection. It’s the kind of dish that sneaks up on you starts off as a dare and ends with you licking the stick clean.
Now let’s talk ceviche, the crown jewel of Peruvian coastal cuisine. Fresh fish “cooked” in lime juice, tossed with red onions, cilantro, and spicy aji amarillo. The first bite is pure voltage. You don’t eat ceviche you experience it. It’s citrus, fire, and ocean all happening at once. This is Peruvian seafood in its most iconic form.
Lomo saltado is where the comfort kicks in. Stir-fried beef tossed with onions, tomatoes, soy sauce, and you guessed it French fries, all served over rice. A wild but beautiful marriage of Peruvian and Chinese flavors known as chifa cuisine. And yes, it’s every bit as addictive as it sounds.
Even the drinks in Peru pull no punches. Chicha morada is a sweet, purple corn beverage that tastes like a Peruvian grandma’s version of grape soda, but with cloves and cinnamon. Then there’s the infamous Pisco Sour—a cocktail made with pisco, lime juice, egg white, and bitters. A national treasure. And also the reason you text your ex from Machu Picchu.
Peru’s food scene isn’t just diverse. It’s a collision of cultures Indigenous, Spanish, African, Chinese, and Japanese influences all wrapped into one culinary identity. Whether you’re navigating a local market in Lima or hiking your appetite through Cusco, Peruvian gastronomy doesn’t whisper. It roars.
So no, I didn’t come to Peru for the food.
But Peru’s traditional dishes? They stuck with me longer than most of the people I’ve met.
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Not All Who Wander Are Lost / Some of Us Are Just Unbothered.
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For inboxes that prefer one-way tickets

For inboxes that prefer one-way tickets
© OMG BYE!
2025


Not All Who Wander Are Lost
●
For inboxes that prefer one-way tickets
© OMG BYE!
2025