Casually Doomed

Since we only have a few days until the wedding, Marco suggested we get our inevitable gastrointestinal catastrophes out of the way now so as to not interfere with his matrimonial plans later in the week. We drove to the outskirts of the city where there was an insanely popular street vendor selling pork sandwiches. The little stand was surrounded by rundown taxis, military vehicles, expensive upper-class cars; people from every rung of the economic ladder. I had a sanguche de cabeza de chancho, or pig’s head sandwich. Sanguche apparently is a loanword from English, a kind of phonetic bastardization of the word sandwich. In any event, we ate them in our car as the stools surrounding the cart were all occupied.

The sandwich consisted of large chunks of salty, sour, and  intensely flavorful pork head, stuffed with onions between two pieces of triangular wheat bread. Although I was initially wary of eating pig’s head, it turned out to be one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in a very long time.

In anticipation of the stomach problems that he insists will surely follow,  he has scheduled an excursion to the market later tonight to stock up on antidiarrheal medication and gatorade.

We decided to have a classier yet equally typical Peruvian meal for dinner, so we went to the restaurant La Nueva Palomino, where everything is cooked in large wooden pots. Our appetizer was fried cheese with a spicy sauce that was so good it bordered on being addictive:

For my main plate I had Rocoto Relleno, which is a large chili pepper stuffed with meat, cheese, onions, olives and spices. It is usually served with a side dish of cheese and potatoes, which is equally delicious:

Finally, Marco’s fiancee Carolina had a soup compromised almost entirely of delicious salty Peruvian cheese:

The picture doesn’t begin to accurately convey the size of that soup. Even after giving Marco and I huge chunks of cheese she still couldn’t finish it and had to take the rest home. By the way, the corn in Peru is mutant in origin and ridiculously large.

I would have taken a picture of Marco’s meal but to be honest it was pretty boring and looked like shit. Hopefully next time he’ll show the common courtesy of choosing something more interesting to eat.

Restaurant Entrance:

Upstairs dining area:

The restaurant is located on what I’m told is a typical Arequipa street from the city’s colonial period. The buildings are all made of white volcanic stone called sillar, which is why Arequipa is called the White City.