Beverages in Cusco: Café, Jugo y Agua sin Gas

           When friends and family back home found out that I would be traveling to Perú, there was a recurring phrase that surfaced. Delivered with the gravity of a groundbreaking scientific discovery, they advised me, “don’t drink the water.” Without a doubt, there exists compelling scientific research regarding the connection between drinking tap water and traveler’s diarrhea. Culturally speaking, however, I found that the water stigma also served to clearly define our group as outsiders. In order to have a relatively stable supply of clean water, we were obliged to regularly buy 2.5-liter plastic bottles of water. This was a practical necessity, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit ridiculous carrying a massive water bottle around with me around Cusco. 

            Another interesting difference regarding water emerged when we started visiting Peruvian restaurants. Carbonated water appears far more often on Peruvian menus than it does on menus in the U.S. If you ask a waiter for water, they respond with, “¿Con gas o sin gas?” Aside from the recent fixation on LaCroix, carbonated water does not have as much popularity in the U.S. I wonder how this tradition emerged—did it emerge as a further separation between “clean water” and “tap water”? If carrying around a plastic water bottle served as an indicator of the elite status awarded to visitors, did carbonated water emerge as a further marker of prestige? Perhaps this is a stretch, but I am very curious as to how this tradition emerged. 

            In addition to the bottled water tradition, I also realized that fruit juices played an important role in Perú’s culinary scene. You would be hard pressed to find a menu in Cusco in which fresh fruit juices are not an option. The fruit here is incredibly fresh, so restaurants offer fruit juices with every meal. On menus in the states, the lines of potential beverages generally pertain to the different types of pop that they offer. Here, “cola, sprite, etc.” only takes up one line, and the rest of the options are various modifications on mixed fruit juices. Instead of the standard offerings of orange and apple juice that I am used to from the U.S., Perú offers mango, pineapple, banana, strawberry, and papaya. Lúcuma and Maracuya are also popular options for juices here, flavors that I had never even heard of before I came to Perú. I wonder if this emphasis on fruit offerings comes from a sort of national pride in Perú’s natural agricultural prosperity. It certainly seems to reflect the cultural feeling of abundance that I’ve noticed here.

            As an avid coffee drinker, I also noticed some differences in the coffee traditions here. First of all, I noticed that it is far more common to mix alcohol with coffee. It’s very easy to find some variation on Irish Coffee on the coffee shop menus here. I also noticed a lack of two stereotypically U.S. traditions; first, an extensive offering of milk options, and, second, the offering of frappuccinos. I’ve become accustomed to the Starbucks-esque listings of milk, ranging from skim to 2% to almond to soy. Here, there’s really only just milk, sometimes lactose-free milk if you’re visiting a particularly adventurous café. Furthermore, while you can get cold coffee, I’ve noticed that frappuccinos (and cold coffee drinks in general) seem to be less prevalent in Perú than in the U.S. In both countries, however, shots of espresso, americanos, and lattes hold the hearts of many. 

            All in all, I’ve noticed several interesting differences between the beverage traditions in the U.S. and Perú. First, due to the conditions of the tap water, visitors are often obliged to walk around with very large plastic water bottles. Secondly, carbonated water holds far more popularity in the restaurant scene in Perú than in the U.S. Thirdly, exotic and varied fruit juices are frequently offered on Peruvian menus. Lastly, the coffee tradition has fewer frozen drinks and milk options, but offers more alcohol-coffee infusions.