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Active Time:1 hr 20 minsTotal Time:1 hr 20 minsServings:6Jump to Nutrition Facts
Active Time:1 hr 20 minsTotal Time:1 hr 20 minsServings:6
Active Time:1 hr 20 mins
Active Time:
1 hr 20 mins
Total Time:1 hr 20 mins
Total Time:
Servings:6
Servings:
6
Jump to Nutrition Facts
Jump to recipe
White Americans introduced me, a Peruvian immigrant, to eating quinoa.
I know that this may not be a popular assertion. After all, many minorities are trying to reclaim their cultural heritage from members of this country’s power structure who have stolen and profited from it under the name of “cultural appropriation.”
However, to claim that I, a Creole-identifying Peruvian from Lima, learned how to cook and enjoy quinoa at home from generations of family recipes would be a lie—and would also deny the social injustices that exist in the country of my birth.
Quinoa is an edible seed, masquerading as a grain, that is indigenous to the Andean region of South America, where native peoples, most famously the Inca civilization, have been cultivating it for millennia. Even today it is a traditional crop of the contemporary Quechua people, descendants of the Incas and the single largest ethnic group in Peru, with at least one-third of the population claiming at least some Quechua ancestry.
After gaining independence from Spain, much of Peru became wrapped up in keeping up aristocratic appearances. But this whole preoccupation was nowhere as ingrained into our psyches as it was in Lima. Your adherence to viceroyalty-era social rules could guarantee your future, and no amount of money could correct poor manners, poor diction, poor posture and a poor diet.
In a country obsessed with gastronomy, it’s only natural that these Eurocentric social rules extended into food. And for a limeño (someone from Lima) trying to maintain an image of dignity or—in the case of my family—trying to move up the social ladder, what you ate said just as much about who you were as where you went to school and where you lived.
Class-based associations with foods aren’t a uniquely Peruvian thing. We see them in the United States too. In contemporary culture, for example, processed foods are seen as something uneducated and poor people consume. In Lima, however, these dietary rules took on a different bent. Indigenous groups like the Quechua are seen as second-class citizens in Peru. And what you ate as a limeño was supposed to distinguish you from rural, indigenous peasants first and foremost. As a result, European foods were considered acceptable—if not preferable—whereas native products were seen as undesirable—if not inedible. The only exceptions would be native foods that the Spanish or other European settlers deemed favorable, like a handful of the thousands of species of potatoes, some chile peppers and a few herbs.
Quinoa was one of the foodstuffs that was considered almost taboo, along with other nutritious, affordable and tasty native products that formed an exhaustive list of things that were off-limits to self-respecting, Eurocentric limeños. When I first encountered quinoa in magazines and at gourmet stores in Miami, where we fled as refugees in 1989, I was excited to see another unique part of Peruvian food culture that distinguished us from the Hispanic Caribbean majority in my new hometown. I excitedly went to ask my father about it, and he wrinkled his nose and said to me, “That’s Indio food for peasants. We don’t eat that. We have rice.” This was the age before the internet was available in every home, and my dad was the gatekeeper to my Peruvian identity, so as many sons who idealized their fathers did, I blindly believed him and moved on.
As I got older, quinoa didn’t go away as some flash-in-the-pan fad but rather became more available in the United States, especially as the gluten-free lifestyle became all the rage. Around the same time, during the late 1990s and early 2000s, a culinary revolution was occurring in Peru. After decades of maintaining a Eurocentric view toward our food, many young chefs were returning from their stages in Europe and North America with valuable insight: our Peruvian food is something to be very proud of.
Luckily, the newfound pride in “lo nuestro” (our own things) spawned Cocina Novoandina, or New Andean Cuisine. Classically trained chefs were taking native Peruvian ingredients and using them in traditional European applications. Whereas a few decades earlier, all the fanciest restaurants in Lima were unequivocally European, you could now have a gourmet meal featuring guinea pig confit served in a reduction of chancaca (a type of unrefined sugar), Muscovy duck cooked like coq au vin with chicha de jora (corn beer) and purple potatoes, and soufflé made with a fruit called lucuma. One of the dishes that these innovative chefs came up with was cleverly called quinotto, a portmanteau of quinoa and risotto. It was a hit and a perfect vehicle for all sorts of Peru-centric creations, as well as being a novel change from the rice that accompanied most limeño dishes.
Quinotto became so popular, in fact, that it trickled down to mid-range restaurants and home kitchens and even made it into the United States, where you can find it at some of the more cheffy Peruvian restaurants, particularly in South Florida. Part of the reason it became so popular is because it is exponentially easier to prepare than Italian risotto, which requires constant monitoring. As well, most Latin Americans have an almost inherited dislike for mushy or porridge-like rice, which is the desired outcome of a risotto. Quinotto takes no time to make, can be reheated without turning into a solid brick, and is more nutritious than risotto. It is also a dish that reflects the changing view that we limeños have about our own cuisine and what it says about us. While some of the first quinoa dishes I ever tried were Anglo-American salads and raisin-spiked pilafs, when someone now asks me for a Peruvian preparation of quinoa that reflects my own lived experience, I can proudly offer my recipe for quinotto.
Cook Mode(Keep screen awake)Ingredients3tablespoonsextra-virgin olive oil, divided1mediumonion, finely chopped¼teaspoonsalt plus 1/8 teaspoon, divided2clovesgarlic, chopped¼cupmild aji amarillo paste (see Note)¼cupdry vermouth1cupquinoa, rinsed2 ½ - 3cupslow-sodium chicken brothorvegetable broth½teaspoondried oregano1cupevaporated milk2tablespoonsfinely grated Parmesan cheeseChopped fresh parsley and peas for garnish (optional)
Cook Mode(Keep screen awake)
Ingredients
3tablespoonsextra-virgin olive oil, divided
1mediumonion, finely chopped
¼teaspoonsalt plus 1/8 teaspoon, divided
2clovesgarlic, chopped
¼cupmild aji amarillo paste (see Note)
¼cupdry vermouth
1cupquinoa, rinsed
2 ½ - 3cupslow-sodium chicken brothorvegetable broth
½teaspoondried oregano
1cupevaporated milk
2tablespoonsfinely grated Parmesan cheese
Chopped fresh parsley and peas for garnish (optional)
Directions
Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onion and sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon salt. Once the onion starts sizzling, reduce heat to medium-low. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is golden brown and jammy, about 40 minutes.
Meanwhile, mash garlic with the remaining 1/8 teaspoon salt on a cutting board with the back of a fork or side of a chef’s knife.
Add the garlic paste to the pan and increase heat to medium. Cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil and aji amarillo paste; stir to combine. Cook, stirring, until the oil separates, about 30 seconds. Add vermouth and cook, stirring, until it evaporates and the oil separates again, about 30 seconds. Add quinoa and stir to combine.
Add 2 1/2 cups broth to cover the quinoa. Let simmer, stirring occasionally, until the quinoa has absorbed most of the liquid and you begin to see tiny holes in the quinoa, about 20 minutes. (If the quinoa appears to be sticking to the pan, reduce the heat slightly.)
When the quinoa has the consistency of stiff mashed potatoes, reduce heat to low and add evaporated milk and Parmesan. Cook, stirring occasionally, until it has a risotto-like consistency, about 5 minutes. Garnish with parsley and peas, if desired.
To make ahead
Refrigerate for up to 2 days.
Notes
Aji amarillo is a fruity-tasting, bright orange chile that forms the backbone of most coastal Peruvian dishes. You can find jars of this paste at many South American grocery stores or online.
Originally appeared: EatingWell.com, September 2023
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Nutrition Facts(per serving)237Calories9gFat26gCarbs9gProtein
Nutrition Facts(per serving)
- Daily Values (DVs) are the recommended amounts of nutrients to consume each day. Percent Daily Value (%DV) found on nutrition labels tells you how much a serving of a particular food or recipe contributes to each of those total recommended amounts. Per the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), the daily value is based on a standard 2,000 calorie diet. Depending on your calorie needs or if you have a health condition, you may need more or less of particular nutrients. (For example, it’s recommended that people following a heart-healthy diet eat less sodium on a daily basis compared to those following a standard diet.)
(-) Information is not currently available for this nutrient. If you are following a special diet for medical reasons, be sure to consult with your primary care provider or a registered dietitian to better understand your personal nutrition needs.
