pisco sour | thefidgetyfoodie

My Passion for Pisco

Posted on November 10, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Pisco sours and ceviche – the quintessential Peruvian combo

My obsession with pisco predates my adventures in South America.

I’ve always had a fascination with the ‘sour’ and its perfect balance of four ingredients – spirit, egg white, sugar syrup and citrus. Success depends on getting the balance between them just right.

The amaretto sour was the entry point for me. Made with what I can only describe as liquid marzipan, it almost felt like cheating. Surely a mocktail in disguise? From there it was a quick slide towards its Latino cousin, the pisco sour. It wasn’t that long ago that it was rare for bars to even stock pisco so I’d often make them myself. It was around the time I worked for hospitality giant Merivale, and I remember incurring the wrath of Merivale’s head of bars at the time when he discovered I was blending the cocktail rather than shaking it (a crime in the world of mixology). I arrived at work one morning to find a photocopy of the recipe from a cocktail bible with the method highlighted for my benefit. Noted Paul.

Regardless of protocol I still blend my pisco sours. Because no amount of shaking (and I can shake!) matches the foaminess that blending creates.

The port of Pisco

So… what is pisco? It’s actually a brandy, made by distilling fermented grape juice into a high-proof spirit. When the Spanish rocked up to Peru, they decided to start making it rather than importing something similar from Spain. The spirit used to travel to Spain via the port of Pisco so they decided to call it… Pisco.

Genius.

Pisco tasting in Ica, Peru

With pisco sours a firm favourite of mine for a while now, it was always a dream of mine to visit the home of pisco. Or rather homes. Because depending on who you ask, pisco is from Peru and Chile and the two countries have bickered for years over ownership of the Appellation of Origin.

So, what’s the difference? Different grapes to start with. Peruvian pisco is distilled to proof in copper pots while Chilean is aged to a higher proof then cut back with water and stored in oak barrels. The Peruvians use the whole grape, the Chileans distil only the skin. Peru is filled with old-fashioned, tiny producers and Chile is dominated by larger, more commercial operations.

Pisco cocktails for every palate

I’ve now tried pisco in Chile and Peru and because I prefer my pisco ensconsed in a sour, I would be hard pressed to tell the difference to be honest. I was more interested in the way each culture drank their pisco. In Chile they love a piscola – pisco and cola. It didn’t really work for me, but nothing mixed with cola really works for me (yes I’m talking to you Fernet & cola – the national drink of Argentina).

El Pisquerito was one of my favourite bars in Lima

The Peruvians will shot it at home and drink pisco cocktails when out. When it’s not a pisco sour it’s usually a Chilcano, a refreshing mix of pisco, ginger ale and lime, served in a tall glass with lots of ice. I was a big fan of this drink. Read More

How to eat in Lima

Posted on March 30, 2019 by thefidgetyfoodie

Ceviche and pisco sours = a match made in heaven

Lima is a famed culinary hot spot. Boasting three restaurants on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list (on par with New York and Tokyo) and many several celebrity chefs, it’s known as the gastronomic heartland of South America. And it’s true. Almost everything I ate was considered and delicious. But I experienced two very different approaches to Limeño food.

One of many variations on a pisco sour

The Lima that most travellers see revolves around the hip central areas of Miraflores and Barranco and has been finessed to perfection. These areas are clean, sophisticated and importantly safe. Of course that’s where travellers go. That’s exactly where I stayed over several weekends.

A view of Saint Martin de Porres from the gym (which I frequented to work through all those carbs)

But Lima is a city of 9.7 million (30% of Peru’s population) and not everyone can afford these desirable suburbs. The city has sprawled extensively to cope with the population influx and the outskirts of Lima are an entirely different proposition to the centre. I came to appreciate this when I spent weeks volunteering at an NGO school for disadvantaged children in Saint Martin de Porres. It’s a mere 20km from central Lima but the difference in living conditions could not be more stark.

However it was the difference in eating which really fascinated me.

Peru’s impressive coastline

Think of Peru and you think ceviche and pisco sours, si? During my time in Saint Martin de Porres I didn’t come close to either. Yet in central Lima you can’t take two steps without tripping over a stylish venue that offers both.
Peru has an enviably long coastline and despite laying claim to just 0.1% of the world’s sea it produces 10% of the world’s seafood. But I found that people in Saint Martin de Porres rarely ate seafood. Partly because of the cost and partly because they are so enamoured with chicken that they have no time for seafood.

The local chicken shop in Saint Martin de Porres

Chicken and carbs are what sustain most Peruvians day in and day out. Rice, potatoes, bread. Heaven help you if you’re celiac. And if you’re a vegetarian it’s huevos for you. One vegetarian volunteer found herself eating rice and eggs three times a day while at the school.

Quinoa and potato stew with rice – for lunch and dinner

I marvelled at how many carbs could be amalgamated into one meal. Quinoa and potato stew with rice was the epitome of this approach. For lunch and dinner. With bread for breakfast. Salad and vegetables did not feature heavily. Or at all.

Peruvians are also extremely religious. They pray before every meal. They don’t really drink. And off topic slightly, because they live at home until marriage there are literally thousands of ‘hostals’ offering rooms by the hour for romantic dalliances that could never happen at home. Read More

5 mouth-watering reasons to visit Chile

Posted on June 18, 2017 by thefidgetyfoodie

One of the many ceviche dishes I enjoyed in Chile

When I told people I was carving out three days of my South American holiday to spend in Chile, specifically Santiago and Valparaiso, they were confused. Aussies need to pass through Santiago to fly home but no one actually steps out of the airport. One friend even coined Santiago as ‘an irrelevancy’.

Well that made me even more determined to go. After all it’s an entirely different country (from Brazil and Argentina where I’d previously been) which meant new ingredients, cooking styles and traditional dishes. There would have to be something new and delicious for me to eat I reasoned. Plus the country produces pisco and I live on pisco sours.

When I landed in Santiago after a few weeks in luminous Brazil, it was raining and cold. People were burrowed under coats, the sky was grim and the fierce rain forced me to take cabs when I otherwise would always walk. It wasn’t a great start. But once I bought a scarf and started to explore, I soon found my foodie groove.

I easily ate a week’s worth of food in three days and these were my highlights.

Another ceviche… this one from a tiny seafood joint in Valparaiso

Ceviche

If I had to live on one dish for the rest of my life, this would be it. I’ve always loved the zing and wholesomeness of a good ceviche, and appreciate how uncomplicated it is. As a country that’s all coastline, Chile excels in fresh and delicious seafood, including many species of fish you can’t get elsewhere.

I ate ceviche in a little seafood joint in Valparaiso, at a pokey little stall in the fish markets and in a seafood restaurant and every time it was on point. Never too fancy, never overloaded with ingredients, just fresh slivers of fish and maybe prawn, heavy with the weight of the citrus it had soaked up to ‘cook’ the fish, and peppered with chili, garlic, red pepper, red onion and a sprinkling of coriander. Sensational every time.

A classic pisco sour from Chpe Libre

Pisco sour

I have single handedly increased pisco distribution amongst Sydney bars. I’ve learnt that if you badger a bartender enough they will eventually start stocking your favourite spirit and making your favourite cocktail. Of course I didn’t have that problem in Chile as it’s the national tipple.

Christopher makes me (another) pisco sour

My favourite pisco bar was Chpe Libre (Chpe coming from a merging of ‘Chile’ and ‘Peru’) which called itself the Républica Independiente del Pisco, i.e. the imaginary diplomatic heart of the pisco regions of Chile and Peru. It therefore served pisco sours made from Chilean and Peruvian pisco, and while people make a fuss about the difference, I struggled to really identify specific flavours. Maybe because of the competing citrus, sugar and egg wash going on in the glass or maybe because I drank too many to really remember!

A classic pino empanada

Empanadas

After spending time in Argentina I thought I’d had my fill of empanadas but it turns out I have a second stomach for them. I also like the Chilean take on this ubiquitous South American hand held food. Their meat version, ‘pino’, isn’t just made with ground beef but is spiked with onions, raisins, black olives and a surprise (to me) of hard-boiled egg, which really elevated the flavour.

A mix of empanadas with fillings including beef and octopus

I also tried a version with octopus which I had my doubts about but was delicious. A former President of Chile once referred to creating ‘a revolution with the flavour of red wine and the scent of an empanada’, which sounds exactly like a movement I could get behind. Read More