A few of the many varieties of potato |
Potatoes are a key part of cuisine here. There are dozens of varieties on sale, different shapes, sizes, colours, some multi-coloured, not forgetting too the interesting chuño and tunta. These are small potatoes that are left outside for four days, drying in the bright sunshine during the day, and freezing at night (tunta is soaked in river water for 3 weeks first). Potatoes so treated last for many years, and have a more pronounced taste and a denser texture when cooked.
One comes across differences in meat and fish too. Llama and alpaca are a regular features on menus, pleasant enough meats but nothing special in my view. They are also salted and dried to produce charque, the original form of jerky. Lamb is lovely and intense, more like middle eastern lamb than northern European. Trout from Lago Titicaca is wonderful, and it is particularly gratifying that it is properly cooked here, moist and tender, not the overcooked, dry trout that one comes across so often in other places. Plenty of tropical river fish are also used here, such as the delicate white fish surubi, a close relation of catfish.
Chuño at the back and tunta at the front |
Given this great base of ingredients it is not surprising that the traditional cuisine is lovely. The markets are the best places to find it. Soups are a major feature and are fantastic. They are hearty, beautifully balanced, and obviously made with proper techniques in a traditional manner. Caldo de pollo for breakfast is a staple and is right up there with the finest chicken broth I know (from the simple Jewish-Hungarian restaurant Kádár in Budapest). Also caldo de cordero (lamb), caldo de cabeza (sheep´s head, very good), caldo de cardon (bull´s penis), and plenty of others.
There is an interesting strand of cuisine which mixes sweet
and spicy flavours. The classic example
is salteñas, empanadas or pasties made from sweet pastry and filled with a
spicy stew. Not really to my taste, but
an interesting combination. Another,
more to my taste, are humintas. These
are triangles of corn-based fruit cake dough with sultanas, hot chillies and cheese,
wrapped in corn husks and baked. They
are lovely, sort of like triangular tamales.
Extraordinary caldo de pollo |
The local distilled spirit, singani, is made from grape
trash in the same way as grappa or marc de cava. The primary grape used is muscatel, and the
result is a clean, sharp, floral spirit that is pleasant after a meal. Again I don’t think the marketers of eau de
vie and grappa have anything to worry about, but singani is certainly a good addition
to the lineup.
A licuado stand in Sucre market |
All this comes at a price of course, and in Bolivia that
price is incredibly low. One can easily get
spoiled with 10Bs breakfasts (€1.10) and 15Bs (€1.65) lunches in the
markets. A large licuado, the perfect dessert, is under €1.
In La Paz there is a small but blossoming foodie
culture. There is Hallwrights, a good wine
bar, offering hand crafted locally produced cheeses, cured meats and bread, accompanied
by Bolivian, Chilean and Argentinian wines.
There are great little shops too, like the artisan bakery and deli Arco Iris opposite Sopocachi market, selling interesting bread, pastries, charcuterie,
cheeses and local pates.
However, in contrast to the markets, which have been consistently
good, restaurants are mixed. There are places catering primarily to tourists,
offering the standard fare of pizza, Mexican food and burgers – nothing more
needs to be said. There are local
restaurants and some of these are good, but many struggle to get past acceptable. There are a few international restaurants
aimed at the diplomat/expat community, generally OK but nothing special.
Then there is Gustu.Gustu stands head and shoulders above any other restaurant I have been to in Bolivia. Indeed it stands above any restaurant I have been to in the last two years, except perhaps for Aponiente in Spain. It is, in my view, certainly 1 star and more likely 2 star Michelin, and achieves this entirely with Bolivian products and Bolivian cuisine. Clever, inventive, modern, intelligent, very well executed dishes. For example, a Bolivian traditional dish is remade into a take on fettucine carbonara, with “fettucine” of palm hearts, a poached egg yolk, desalted deep fried alpaca charque, and beurre noisette. Spectacular. The prices are, by Bolivian standards, stratospheric. By first world standards they are modest for food at this level.
But clever food is only the end product of Gustu,
extraordinary enough though it is. What
makes Gustu even more special is that the kitchen and wait staff are primarily Bolivians
from extremely disadvantaged backgrounds (all are indigenous, most were street
children). They have been transformed in
just 18 months into capable world class kitchen and front of house staff. How?
Through the work of the charitable foundation Melting Pot, set up and
led by Claus Meyer. Yes, that Claus
Meyer - the one who co-owns Noma in Copenhagen.
Gustu: palm heart fettucine, crispy alpaca charque, poached egg yolk, beurre noisette |
Sitting having lunch at one of the simple stalls in the market
in the lowland city of Santa Cruz, we finished our tasty and ridiculously cheap
food, and were chatting over a glass of chicha, the local corn drink. A small boy, maybe 7 years old, approached
us, eyes downcast, and quietly asked if he could have the rice left on Maret´s
plate. Not asking for money, or gifts,
or anything else- just leftover rice. He
proffered a plastic carrier bag to put it into.
Of course we gave it to him, and he was gone in a flash, before we could
offer something more. The gap, the
almost unfathomable gap, between the first world and the third world is a part
of everyday life in some parts of Bolivian cities, and it is into this world
that Melting Pot / Gustu stepped, working to make a difference.
Gustu is an act of total generosity on the part of Claus
Meyer, empowering disadvantaged Bolivians and putting Bolivia firmly on the
foodie map. It is entirely consistent with
the New Nordic Cuisine philosophy, which always was about more than just a
local foraging approach to food. Noma
might be getting the limelight, but I would venture that the real story of the New
Nordic Cuisine movement is being played out in the mountains of Bolivia (and also in the
prisons of Denmark, another Claus Meyer initiative).
For me the experience of Gustu was humbling, a piercing
insight into the nature of true generosity and the empowerment of others, and how
much further I have to travel in those regards.
As for Bolivian food being uninspired: not at all. I have long felt that the magic in life
is rarely found in the safe middle ground, and that is certainly true for
Bolivian cuisine.