5 minute read
Peru's Reclaimed Bounty
from Bon Vivant 2021
by Ensemble
By Renée S. Suen
Forget Machu Picchu — the Sacred Valley of the Incas is inspiring a newfound love of high-altitude cuisine, made with heirloom ingredients brought back from the brink of extinction by a leading-edge agricultural research centre and a celebrated chef.
Some moments in travel are triumphant; mine seem to be driven by gluttony.
Like now, as I attempt to guide a teetering pile of cabuya (agave) nectar-sweetened lamb tartare to my mouth. The load is heaped precariously under a quivering blanket of delicate elderflowers on a fragile quinoa-speckled kañihua (grain) cracker. My greediness is rewarded in a bite that bursts with deliciousness and fantastic textures that dance in my mouth. It’s also the second course served at Mil Centro, chef Virgilio Martínez’s ambitious culinary complex in Peru. Despite the stares of guests in the dining room, I’m happy dancing in my seat.
I’m in the Sacred Valley of the Incas, a strip in the Andes Mountains sandwiched between Cusco and Machu Picchu.
It’s here where snow-dusted peaks footed by sky-reflecting lagoons frame mesmerizing landscapes and the Urubamba River weaves through Peru’s most productive agricultural region.
Rich with character and charm, the valley is filled with traditional towns and ancient ruins spared from globalization. From the colonial village of Pisac with its local craft markets to Chinchero renowned for its intricate traditional textiles, and Ollantaytambo and its grid of cobbled streets, many locals still speak Quechua, the language of the Incas.
Trek through beautiful maize and quinoa fields towards the bottom of the Sacred Valley and discover the impressive Salineras de Maras. Active since pre-Inca times, these
Similar to the reverence Machu Picchu garners, the heirloom foods being reclaimed in the Sacred Valley are piquing the interest of gourmands worldwide. open-air salt ponds were built to trap water from an iodine-rich hot spring. Once evaporated, rough piles of naturally pink Andean salt are left behind.
Of the many Incan vestiges, it’s Moray I’m admiring at the moment, unobstructed through a picture window from my table. I see the garden space I toured earlier with server Riecel Damian, who introduced me to the wild native vegetation harvested by the kitchen for its tasting menu. Believed to have been used as an agricultural laboratory by the Incans, each terrace level simulates the microclimates found at different altitudes in the Sacred Valley.
They serve as inspiration for Martínez’s inventive Alturas Mater menu at Central, his flagship restaurant in Lima. His menu featuring a modern interpretation of Andean cuisine launched in 2013 helped catapult Central onto the World’s 50 Best list — reaching number four on the survey two years later. Mil takes this focus up a notch, turning its attention exclusively on high-altitude terroir.
Similar to the reverence Machu Picchu garners, the heirloom foods being reclaimed in the Sacred Valley are piquing the interest of gourmands worldwide.
As a research centre, Mater Iniciativa’s focus is on the preservation of Peru’s biocultural diversity and heritage by connecting nature and people through food experiences — an initiative led by Martínez’s sister, Malena. Hundreds of native products from the Andes and Amazon are catalogued and studied. The findings are incorporated into dishes served at the roster of restaurants operated by the Martínez family, including seasonally inspired Kjolle, co-owned and helmed by the celebrated chef’s talented wife, Pía León, and Mayo, a bar highlighting Mater’s research results in spirits and beverages.
The merger of traditional knowledge with modern technology can be seen in the enormous variety of vegetables grown from agrarian terraces, and through the most important Incan staple — the potato.
For heirloom tubers, chef Martínez calls upon Manuel Choqque Bravo, a fourth-generation farmer, conservationist and agricultural engineer from Huatata. Known as “the Potato Whisperer,” Bravo has cultivated more than 380 native potato varieties — namely, out-of-circulation ocas and mashuas from Inca and pre-Inca cultures. He has successfully made natural genetic improvements through manual cross-pollination. His hybrids feature intense pigments, enhanced nutrition, textures and flavours. Besides reviving the revered Andean crop and preserving traditional farming methods, he has given the tubers new value by developing Miskioca, a range of organic wines made from oca found at top restaurants.
As a food enthusiast who goes out of her way to try unique flavours, the plethora of new-to-me ingredients encountered in these novoandina dishes is mind-blowing. From tumbo (banana passionfruit) to cushuro (high-protein algae resembling caviar), I feast on succulent tropical chirimoya (sweetsop relative), ayrampo (prickly pear like) and alpaca. In Cusco, I have cuy — yes, guinea pig. The deliciousness of each ingredient was enriched when I understood its context beyond the plate.
“What we do is more related to our culture, how we’re related to nature, our farms, and the ways we produce food,” says the chef. Inspired by the ancestral techniques and stories behind the rescued indigenous ingredients, including potatoes, his signature course, huatia, honours the Andean tradition of roasting potatoes in a soil oven with a tabletop version formed from clay and Maras salt.
I come to appreciate that through my gustatory cultural experience at Mil. Every innovative altitude-climbing course I dig into is a bite of an ecosystem within the Peruvian Andes. The more I tasted, the more I craved.
In the menu’s opening volley, my taste buds flirt with a fava bean-filled oca pancake slathered with a soft caramel-like elderberry butter. I go wild for chuño (naturally freeze-dried potatoes) transformed into translucent candy-sweet chips, and favour protein-rich tarwi (a type of Andean bean) over slow-cooked pork belly. Meanwhile, the four-part Diversity of Corn dish presents the plant in every form and colour. This was eating local on another level.
Shining alongside the cacophony of novel flavours is the restaurant’s non-alcoholic extractions, infusions, and a harmonious pairing for imbibers. Spotlighting regional producers, the latter pairs a splash of juicy Miskioca rosé to a refreshing meal-closing corn sorbet, capped with fruity crushed mashua.
The latter brings me back to Mater’s research centre across the courtyard.
Staring at a table laden with Andean ingredients, I tick off the colourful knobs and flavours I’ve already sampled from my mental checklist. Then my eyes stop on a selection of Peru’s 4,000 potato varieties. It’s a humbling reminder that though I may know more now about Andean cuisine, but it’s still not much.