My pal Jessica has just returned from a trip to Peru. There she ate the obligatory guinea pig, which I’ve always wondered about, and she came home with this picture:
Now, I’m not the most squeamish of men, but I’m not quite the least either, and although I’d be happy enough to sample a guinea pig, I think I’d like a bit more intervention on the part of the chef, and yes, by that I probably do mean that I want a bit more disguise.
Jessica says her guinea pig tasted good, but she was slightly alarmed to find that it was roasted with the guts in place, which were there to be eaten or not, as you chose. The English, of course, do something similar with woodcocks.
Looking at that picture I notice another thing: that line of three very dreary looking potatoes. I had always imagined the Peruvians performed small miracles with spuds, but not always apparently.