The mountains nearly stole us away this fall.
We had it easy, I’ll admit. Flights that took us just where we needed to be. Placard-bearing agents who met us at airports and hotels. Tickets and itineraries waiting. Cars waiting to take us to trains waiting. No arduous climbs anywhere.
But perhaps that was just why the stunning proportions of the Andes caught us unawares: there was no gradual climb. Just a lift and a drop right into their midst, high enough and fast enough that we needed several cups of coca tea to acclimatize to altitude.
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Plus a pisco sour [Inca Cola, for the under-18-ers] or two thrown in for good measure. And for local flavor.
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Then we could roam the charming town with cobbled streets and terrible histories of Christian conquest, lemon meringue tartlettes and alfajores in hand, and allow seductive enunciations of Quechua to lead us to what mattered. To Sacsayhuamán. To Qorikancha. To Pachamama Herself.
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And when we remembered our hunger, to wander amidst the hecklers inviting us into “Typical Peruvian” restaurants as in India we would have been invited into sari shops in old cities–to find snack shops, bakeries, passion fruit pies, infusions, and empanadas.
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A luxurious little den called “Korma Sutra,” that served tandoori cuy–that’s guinea pig for you–but, no, we didn’t dare. The samosas with spinach, on the other hand, were delicious, and the salsa accompaniment to complimentary chips other-worldly. [This was in Cuzco.]
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Even the trains that moved us fed us on petit pastries in delicate baskets, and with cheese and tablecloths. The journey was a performance, down to its last culinary detail; even sales of goods happened with a song-and-dance flourish [why-oh-why can’t American conveyances mimic such simple elegance?]
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And when we had been down into the jungle valleys of Inca Terra and up again into the lost city called Machu Picchu, when we had seen what we had seen and known what we could know, when we were filled with wonderment and inspired to awe by the Inca’s exquisite poetry of stone on the mountaintops, we could not but grope for words at Govinda’s–speaking in our own familiar meatless idiom to a landscape that inspired nothing short of reverence, devotion, and the dedication of one’s body and soul, not to the Krishna of the Hare Krishnas whose eatery this was, so much as to Pachamama Herself.
As I say, the mountains in all their stillness nearly stole us away.
And then we found soup made heavenly with quinoa. Cultivated and ceremonially revered by the Inca as “mother grain,” suppressed as “Indian food” by the conquistadores for its local significance, rediscovered by the world in the age of superfoods, there for us now that we know what the Inca once knew.
A good broth, chicken if you like, vegetable if you don’t. All the goodness of squash (zucchini), potatoes, peas, carrots, peppers–and cupfuls of quinoa. Milk, if you like it stirred in. Queso Blanco, if you can find it (fresh paneer if you can’t). Beet greens thrown in at the last moment, just barely to wilt and tinge the soup with color. Food for the body and the soul.
Of course, we made this soup in Pondicherry, wishing for holographic technologies to reproduce the stunning landscape of the Andes to really reproduce the experience–but in their absence closing eyes as the steam rose with flavor, and being transported back to the base of Machu Picchu. A nip in the air, the sound of rushing agua callientes in the background, the crunch of quinoa on the tongue, and the great mountains towering.
That way, we’d still have 5 days to look forward to in the Galápagos.
[Warning: jarring rant ahead; read at your own peril.]
See how simple and elegant airline food can be? This was Aerogal, but Taca was just as good. Why-oh-why do American airliners insist on tossing massive tasteless sandwiches and General Tso’s chicken at you, when they really have no inkling how to prepare either sandwiches or Chinese food? Not to talk of serving anything with grace and style. Argh!
[Rant over now.]
All good wishes for 2013, Pâticheri peeps! May your journeys this year take you, too, to such stunning heights and earthy tastes as you never imagined existed–even if you have to travel American airliners to get there!!
Quinoa Soup for the Soul
1 onion, chopped
1-2 cloves crushed garlic
2 large potatoes, cut into chunks
2 carrots, sliced lengthwise and then cross-wise in chunks
1 red bell pepper (or half of a green and half a red), sliced into strips
handful of green peas
1 small zucchini, cut as the carrots above
4-5 cups good chicken or vegetable stock (or water–see note below)
2 cups of quinoa
A few slices of queso blanco or fresh paneer, cut into squares
A few stalks of beet greens or swiss chard, chopped roughly
NOTE: If using water instead of stock, add some chopped celery and parsley to your mix of vegetables, and be prepared to season with with some combination of dried basil, thyme, and oregano. A little extra salt might be called for, too.
- Prepare your vegetables: any combination of carrots, zucchini, green peas, bell peppers, and potatoes you please will really do. More will make a chunkier stew; less will make a lighter soup. Keep your chopping chunky: this is a soup that wants you to relate to each of its ingredients.
- In 2 tablespoons of olive oil, fry a chopped onion until transluscent. Add a clove or two of crushed garlic and fry till about to brown.
- Toss in your potatoes, carrots, and peas, and pour in 3-4 cups of chicken or vegetable stock. Add the sliced chicken breast at this stage, too, if using.
- Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer till potatoes and chicken are almost cooked, about 15 minutes.
- Throw in the zucchini and bell peppers; simmer again till the squash is softening.
- Add another cup or two of stock (or water) and 2 cups of quinoa..
- Simmer again, stirring occasionally, until the quinoa is cooked and looks like its sprouting on its own.
- Taste for salt (stock can be very salty) and add more if needed. [If you used water, it’s time to
- throw in your additional dried herbs until you get the combination you want–I’d do about a 1/2 teaspoon each or less].
- Add your cheese: queso blanco if you have access to it, or else fresh paneer–cut into small square chunks. If you’re vegan, simply omit.
- Just before serving, throw in your chopped chard or beet greens and warm just until wilted.