What to Eat in Cusco

At 3,400 meters in the Peruvian Andes, Cusco cooks with altitude in mind. Days are dry and sunny much of the year, nights cold, and the Sacred Valley supplies maize, potatoes, quinoa, and fava beans. Camelid herding adds llama and alpaca, while terraces and rivers shape daily foodways.

Meals follow Andean rhythms: soup-first almuerzos at midday, sturdy stews for the chill, and fermented chicha de jora marking gatherings. Seasonal rains bring wild mushrooms and tender beans; dry months favor stored chuño and grains. Religious festivals knit agriculture and cooking into public celebration.

Chiri uchu, literally “cold chili” in Quechua–Spanish, is a composed cold platter assembled from separately cooked components. A typical plate brings roasted cuy seasoned with garlic and huacatay, slices of chalona or ch’arki (dried mutton or camelid), a torreja de maíz (corn fritter), queso fresco, crunchy cancha (toasted maize), a whole rocoto, and strips of cochayuyo (dried seaweed). Each item is prepared ahead—meats roasted or rehydrated, fritters fried, corn toasted—and arranged at serving time without sauce pooling or steam. The result is a vivid contrast of textures: brittle skin on the cuy, chewy cured meats, crumbly cheese, and the iodine snap of seaweed balancing Andean starches. Historically tied to the June Corpus Christi procession, the dish mirrors Cusco’s syncretic calendar, bringing highland and coastal products to one festive plate. Locals eat it at home and in market stalls during that week, usually at midday when families gather after religious events.

Cuy al horno is a celebratory roast of whole guinea pig, a domesticated Andean animal raised for food since pre‑Hispanic times. The cleaned cuy is rubbed with salt, garlic, ground cumin, and huacatay, sometimes stuffed with herbs, then roasted in a hot oven—traditionally wood‑fired—until the skin turns lacquer‑crisp and the meat stays moist. It is plated with native potatoes, mote (boiled hominy) or choclo, and a bright ají sauce of rocoto or ají amarillo to cut the richness. The taste is savory and slightly gamey, with crackling skin giving way to delicate, fine‑grained flesh; herbs add a mint‑anise note typical of huacatay. Culturally, the roast marks important family occasions, saints’ days, and rural town festivities, where serving cuy signals respect for guests. In and around Cusco it is eaten as a mid‑day main course, often on weekends or during celebrations, when households have the time to marinate, roast, and carve the animal properly.

Adobo cusqueño is a pork stew built on chicha de jora, the fermented maize beer that gives the broth its gentle acidity. Pork shoulder is marinated overnight with chicha, ají panca, garlic, cumin, black pepper, oregano, and salt, then simmered with sliced onions in a clay pot until tender and lightly thickened by collagen. The broth tastes tangy and warm with smoky chile and toasted spice, while soft onions and fat‑rimmed pork add sweetness and richness. A sprig of huacatay or parsley may finish the pot, and a hunk of country bread is customary for dipping. Historically linked to picantería culture and colonial ingredients, the dish blends Andean fermentation with Iberian cuts and seasonings. In Cusco it is widely associated with Sunday breakfast or late‑morning recovery meals, when friends gather to share bowls of steaming adobo before the day’s errands, fiestas, or soccer matches.

Kapchi de habas is a meatless Andean stew that showcases rainy‑season produce, particularly fava beans and wild or dried mushrooms (callampas). Cooks sauté onion and garlic in oil, add diced potatoes and shelled habas, then fold in soaked callampas, ají amarillo for gentle heat, and a handful of chopped huacatay. Milk or evaporated milk and cubes of queso fresco are stirred in at the end, creating a lightly creamy broth that clings to vegetables without turning heavy. The taste is herbal and clean, with huacatay’s minty‑resin note, earthy mushrooms, and the green sweetness of just‑picked beans; potatoes provide body, while cheese lends mild salinity. Long a Lenten and weekday favorite, kapchi reflects field availability: beans and mushrooms appear with the rains, and kitchens shift accordingly. In Cusco it’s served warm at midday as part of a set lunch, often accompanied by rice or boiled potatoes, and sometimes by rehydrated chuño for extra Andean character.

Olluquito con charqui pairs a native tuber, olluco, with air‑dried camelid jerky to create a quick‑cooking, highland staple. Olluco is peeled and cut into fine batons; charqui of llama or alpaca is rehydrated, shredded, and briefly rinsed to temper salt. A base of onions, garlic, ground ají panca, and a touch of cumin is fried until brick‑red, then the meat and olluco simmer together, releasing juices that thicken slightly without flour. The tuber’s distinctive, slightly slippery bite remains intact, contrasting with savory, smoky strands of jerky; ají brings gentle warmth and color. This dish predates the Spanish arrival in its core elements—native tubers and preserved camelid meat—illustrating high‑altitude foodways shaped by storage and herding. In Cusco it is an everyday segundo at lunch counters and homes, eaten year‑round with a scoop of white rice and a squeeze of lime or a spoon of fresh rocoto to brighten the stew.

Cusco’s cooking balances altitude, seasonality, and ceremony: native tubers and maize, huacatay and ají chiles, and the steady presence of chicha de jora. Dishes move with the calendar, from festival platters to weekday stews, always anchored in Andean technique. Explore more regional food insights and plan climate‑savvy trips on Sunheron.