La Paz: Chuño

La Paz: Chuño
Originally uploaded by Joey Cone.

"Eat the Nasty Shiz!!" It came like a ghost-voice from the past. Was it Chad Crosby yelling it?? Or had I heard all my friends say it so many times in their respective Chad Crosby voices that I`d come to attribute the heinous command to him? Either way, that`s what was echoing in my ears as I prodded and contemplated THE nasty shiz...Chuño (choo-n-yo).

My good friend Tom, who`s an expert on all things Bolivian, had insisted that I try chuño. According to him, eating chuño puts you into an elite group and creates a special bond with fellow chuño consumers; like being blood brothers, but cullinary. I felt like the kid who contemplates his buddies bloody hand and hesitates, knowing it`s a foolish commitment he`s made. Damn Tom and his powers of persuasion.

My first clues that the chuño would live up to it`s infamous reputation were the responses I got from the Bolivians I asked about it. It wasn`t easy to find, so I had various chances to see the reactions of the people as I asked for the mystery food. Despite it being a relatively easy word to pronounce, most people did a double-take and asked if I had really asked what they they were asking if I had really asked. So I would ask again. "¿Sirven Chuño?". Then their face would show bewilderment, as if to ask "How does this clearly non-bolivian guy know what chuño is? and more importantly, Why the hell is he asking to eat it?" When I would clarify and drive the point home, "Yes, I want to eat chuño", their faces would usually get a sort of devious "well, you asked for it" look, and they would laughingly point me in the direction of another place where I might be able to find chuño. Apparently, no gringos ever eat chuño, because they don`t have it in any restaurants that could possible serve tourists.

I finally found the chuño in the 5th place I checked. It was in the dirtiest, cheapest little food stand in the public market. Fitting. My request had caused quite a stir, and a small crowd of entertained Bolivians watched attentively as I recieved my plate of fried chicken, shredded lettuce (that`s salad) and Chuño. I realized what Tom had meant when I`d asked if chuño was potatoes...he`d replied "well, it WAS potatoes". In my search I`d found out that the food was indeed once potatoes, but through a process of dehydration and repeated treatment the chuño was reborn as Potato`s Devil Spawn. The Bolivian peasants make the food by taking the small potatoes common to the altiplano and stomping barefoot on them. They lay them out on the grass during the day and let the sun dry them, and at night the small potatoes freeze. As they thaw in the sun, the peasants stomp them again, and set them again to dry. This process is repeated until the little guys are black as night and dry as sand. This way they can be preserved for very long periods of time, and then soaked and cooked to be given to the first gringo loco enough to actually ask to eat them.

As I started to chew my first bite of chuño, I noted the faint resemblance to potato...but only in texture. My chuño was a little cold, and it felt like maybe I was eating an inadequately cooked old potato that had been in the fridge for several months. The flavor took a moment to soak into my virgin tastebuds, but when it did, I began to wonder if a stray llama hadn`t wandered past and crapped these black balls of disgustingness onto my plate. Then the smell wafted back into my throat and nasal passages. I had the sudden sensation of a mini Bolivian peasant stomping in the back of my mouth. Dirty peasant foot, smearing around on my tonsils and tounge. Luckily, these smells and flavors were gone as quickly as they came. With enough salt I was able to eat all the chuño I was given, and I suppose with some very strong salsa or ranch dressing, one might come to enjoy chuño...in a very self-abusive, simply-eating-to-survive sort of way. Thanks Tom!!!

This blog inspired by Steve Don`t Eat It!!! which is hilarious.