peru, mucho gusto

mountains valley river sky and shrine outside of cuzco, peru

paid work recently swept me far far afield from the radical muffin kitchen: to the mountains of Peru, green and vital, carved with art in places, terraced over generations.

birthplace of more than 4,000 varieties of potatoes. A biodiversity & spectrum of taste endangered in part by fast food empires’ demand for fry fodder Idaho potatoes.

and protected by locals. Earlier this year, Quechua farmers sent seeds of 1,500 potato varieties to a ‘seed vault’, an organization working with indigenous communities to gather both seeds and knowledge on the humble and critical potato.

corn & fava beans for snacking and garnishing soup at the table

no fries for me! instead i ate all kinds of potatoes creamed into soups or swimming with their ancient, perfect sisters—corn, beans, quinoa—in verdant herbed broths.

pumpkin soup

0r pumpkin sopa of velvety orange. A bowl of profound sustenance when you’ve come through the heavy old old doors from the evening air settling cold on the square. the lights of homes spreading outward and upward towards the stars. and the giant light up jesus.

illuminated jesus above cuzco

in addition to the pageantry and politics of religion, the local peoples live with herbal and nutritional wisdom like relief from the altitude affects with mate de coca, coca leaf tea. Cooking magics like cebiche (citrus cooked seafood), spit fermented drinks and head-spinning hallucinogenics. Admittedly, I was no wilder than a few pisco sours, a muscat grape liquor served topped with shining frothed egg whites and freckles of cinnamon. That nudge of spicy scent opens the way for a clean little bite that delivers more booze than anticipated. Or maybe the altitude enabled a serious whallop from a small glass (not enough coca tea!).

on the last evening, after the longest trek, I had that same sense of a meal perfectly tuned to place and my own fatigue when I sat down to a cold bottle of the local beer, Cusqueña and a heaping plate of spicy Indian food. At Maikhana Indian Coffee House on Av El Sol, off the main plaza in Cuzco, 15 soles (about $5.50) will buy all access to a buffet of veggie, chicken and lamb dishes with rice and mineral water. Plus a sideboard of delightful condiments like a ginger-coconut slurry, coriander chutney and plain crescents of cucumber. Not to mention Wi-fi and an international phone call. Perhaps that call is not standard, but  Thrifty Wanderlust will let us know in a post about her adventures in Cuzco soon!!! Breads and beer are cheap add-ons. Also looked like they had plenty of wine, in a glass doored case dotted all over with colorful stickers at the heights of little kids’ fingers.

cuy with potatoes and deep fried pepper stuffed with meat & olives

finally, no, I did not try cuy.
but the garblogger at Everyday Trash did!!! Folks serve up guinea pig in restaurants and keep them at home in fuzzy herds for special suppers. This one came out whole with a tomato tiara on her long toothed head. Word is it tasted mostly of fried. The stuffed pepper side, however, was reportedly most excellent.

Peru, mucho gusto! [.com]

The Eastern Corridor Bus Service and the Great American Media Perversion

I thought I had been to the pinnacle of bus-trapped insanity last summer, when I sat pinioned between adolescent girls popping jewel like jelly candies and chattering on cell phones about big city shopping shopping shopping, half drowning out the Chinese dubbed Tom & Jerry cartoons with Japanese subtitles but not the little butterball boy pin-balling up and down the aisle, burning off the giant soda and fries mama fed him at the rest stop.  Oh yes, and oh—only to be topped by my most recent trip, coming home to Brooklyn breezes after an ill-timed vacation into the sweltering swamp that is our nation’s capitol in August.

I bought a ticket with a new company for some hope of not watching a movie, because the passengers vote whether or not to have one.  I enjoy bus trips, even long ones, especially long ones, except for two things: the bad manners of fellow riders and forced media.  I typically bring earplugs, but sometimes I forget and sometimes they’re inadequate.  I’ve yet to acquire any nifty music playing/earphone device.  So, I am compelled to at least listen which leads to watching whatever Hollywood swill they foist upon me.

As we’re departing, the bus is only three quarters full.  There is a salt and pepper haired, tattooed dyke a row ahead of me, who delves immediately into her book.  A Caribbean family with several small children make their way to the back.  The white guy across the aisle helps me figure out how to work the seats and offers me a Ritz cracker before wrapping himself in wires and hunkering down behind his laptop.

Overall, the passengers vote to watch a movie.

“Tyranny of the majority,” I mutter.

I cannot remember the options now, but the group also voted for A Bronx Tale.  “Good choice,” the bus driver approves.  “It’s good for kids,” he adds.  “There’s some swearing.  And some violence.  But no sex.”

And pops in the cd.

Some swearing, apparently, means the F-word as punctuation.  And the N-word as an integral part of dialogue.  This is a Robert De Niro film, and the violence is graphic.  Mafia-style shootings.  Threats and bullying.  Racist brutality.

Excellent, edifying movies for children, no?

This is the great American perversion.  Creation and tolerance of visceral violent imagery alongside puritanical veiling of sexuality.

Oh my God!  Breasts!  Cover the children’s eyes!

What would have been the same audience’s reaction had the driver shown, say, Boys on the Side or Philadelphia?  I’ll admit it would probably be very uncomfortable to watch Shortbus or Fire with my busmates.  Given the types of special gentlemen who often seat themselves beside me, it would be awkward at best.

What about Bend It Like Beckham?  Wasn’t that rated G?  I’d be fine to be trapped with a G movie to accommodate the most sensitive audience members.  Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Akeelah and the Bee—bring them on.

Really, though, can’t we all just read a book or something?  Here are some good ones for your last long rides at the end of vacation season:

• Ultimate Gay Erotica 2009 by Jesse Grant (Editor)
• Baby Remember My Name: An Anthology of New Queer Girl Writing‎ by Michelle Tea
• The Fan-Maker’s Inquisition by Rikki Ducornet
• The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters (not about sex, but in my opinion, very sexy and what I was reading or trying to read on this trip!)

naked farmers in mexico

hola gentle readers…

Today from the International AIDS Conference in Mexico City (okay – from my hotel, very late at night, after drinking really amazing Mexican tequila, after another long day of absorbing and reflecting new AIDS prevention information), I recommend you read the blog post excerpted below.  

Another note on IAC: the food is atrocious.  Conferences are not generally beloved for their cuisine, but one might reasonabley expect this health-focused event to invest time (therefore expense) arranging for healthy food.  Couldn’t the organizers partner with groups dedicated to nutritional, sustainable, delicious food to create a “food court” friendly to those with comprimised immune systems?  As a vegetarian, I have the option of a cheese-slab topped spinach salad or sweets, and vegans, so far as I can tell, are crap out of luck.  Oh wait, there is a fruit salad in a plastic square fold-over container.

More than one attendee, all young people, have worried out loud about the carbon footprint of this mammoth event.  Providing local, organic food would reduce that detrimental effect and support local farmers and cooks.  They could use the support, although here and in other future locations, locals might not have land to farm:

Why are Farmers Staging Naked Protest in the Streets of Mexico City?

by Waheedah Shabazz-El

Sun, 08/03/2008 – 3:48pm

 

As I was taxi cabbing through the streets of Mexico City journeying from the airport toward my pre-arranged living quarters for the week of the IAC, alternative reality quickly set in when I observed about 300 Indigenous men and women staging a protest fueled by anger and frustration, all of whom, by the way appeared to be naked!

 

El Movimiento de los 400 Pueblos (400 Villages) has been protesting naked in Mexico City since 2002.

 

At least 300 men stand on cans and dance naked (my observance was that women were well represented) in some of the city’s major squares and streets, whilst the women (and men, again my observance) from the movement collect money from passers-by and give out pamphlets detailing their cause. The protestestors are farmers from Veracruz and they hold marches and protests outside of the Mexican Congress in an effort to bring Delgado, current governor Patricio Chirinos and others to trial. The farmers accused former Governor of Veracruz, Dante Delgado from the Convergence party, of obtaining by force, more than 100 hectares (acres) of land in May of 1992.

 

One of the first thoughts that came to my mind (besides that I am no longer in Kansas) was the all-too-obvious tyranny that must exist here and being carried out by a government that has for far too long (since 2002) ignored the basic needs of its constituents.

 

As a farmer, how are you able to farm with no land? How does a farmer feed his family and provide the basic needs of a family like food shelter, clothing and the big one, “Medical Coverage,” if he has no land with which to yield a harvest?

 

Read the Rest of the Article here: http://www.aids2008.com/blog/why-are-farmers-staging-naked-protest-streets-mexico-city   

lentils for anemic royalty

my flatmate who is leaving for India is also anemic, and the Radical Muffin kitchen has been making iron rich concoctions to help! Cook these yummy lentils in a cast iron skillet and serve with steamed greens and a big glass of OJ for maximum metal absorption.

mince one red onion, two cloves of garlic, and 1 inch of peeled fresh ginger, combine in a pile or bowl. Dice 2 medium carrots. Chop 4-5 fresh tomatoes if it’s the season; otherwise, open up a big can, about a cup and a half, of diced tomatoes.

in a hot skillet, for just a moment or two, toast 1 1/2 teaspoons each of sweet and hot paprika, 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon (unless you are cooking for the kitchen witch who is allergic), and 6-10 cardamom pods, lightly crushed in a mortar or pestle or some improvisation of that tool. Add one teaspoon each of red pepper flakes, coriander, mustard seeds, garam masala, and tumeric.

stir in 2 tablespoons of sunflower or veggie oil. Let the oil get hot then stir in the garlic pile. Cook for 5 minutes or until the onions have softened, stirring occasionally.

add one cup of red lentils. Stir. Pour in 1 2/3 cup of coconut milk and one cup of water. Bring to a boil and stir in the tomatoes. Bring back to a boil and stir, then reduce the heat and simmer for half an hour to 45 minutes. Resist the temptation to stir too often—lentils are delicate, breaking down to mush quickly. Gently swirl and cover and cook over low heat.

slice and 3 scallions. Chop a few fistfuls of fresh cilantro and/or parsley if you have it and set aside.

ladle into bowls over brown rice or jasmine rice. Sprinkle with cilantro and scallions; serve with wedges of lime. Excellent with a drizzle of Greek yoghurt or raita.

And later, much later, the green fairy.