The machine itself has a tiny footprint as no large machines or industry are allowed in the protected area. The space is stacked with five-gallon oil buckets – the same ones the fresh oil comes in – with which roughly 200 litres is collected each day, depending on the season. Huamán and his team create biodiesel in a small building on the property of the Inkaterra Machu Picchu Pueblo Hotel, a sprawling luxury eco-hotel. One litre of used oil can contaminate up to 1,000 litres of water.” “ is one of the most serious factors of water pollution,” she said. “It is capable of creating a layer above the water, which is difficult to remove makes it hard for the oxygen to pass and can kill living things. First on his mind was the oil pollution, which, as fellow biologist and Inkaterra Asociación Coordinator Carmen Soto explains, is a disaster for a river. The company runs two hotels in the city, so he closely understood the complexities – and urgency – of the problem. And restaurants were spending their profits sending potato peelings out of the city.įor years this bothered Marco Antonio Huamán, a Machu Picchu-based biologist who works for the Inkaterra Asociación, the non-profit arm of the Peruvian eco-hospitality group, Inkaterra. Given the high cost of train transportation for businesses, most restauranteurs simply threw the oil into the Vilcanota River, which runs through town.
In Machu Picchu Pueblo, just short of two years ago, the leftovers from these two dishes and other Peruvian favourites such as causa (a layered potato casserole) and aji de gallina (spicy creamed chicken), would result in a pile of vegetable scraps and a vat of oil that would need to be transported by train back to Cusco or Lima, where it could be dumped or processed. Here you’ll find another hugely popular Peruvian favourite, pollo a la brasa (rotisserie chicken), also served with a side of fried tubers. The dish is arguably the cuisine’s most famous creation, now served not only at chifa establishments but in Peru’s beloved pollerias (chicken restaurants) too.
As lomo saltado’s longevity and popularity attests, chifa has become as Peruvian as potatoes. Lima was the epicentre of this culinary fusion, and still is today, with an estimated 6,000 restaurants serving the cuisine throughout city. Many went on to open up businesses, including restaurants serving a fusion cuisine of typical Cantonese dishes made with South American ingredients, such as ají peppers and pineapple. Between 18, more than 100,000 Chinese immigrants came to the country as indentured servants to alleviate the labour shortage after the abolition of slavery. Most were from Guangdong – known then as Canton – and they brought their woks, ingredients and cooking methods with them. Lomo saltado is a classic dish of the chifa tradition, the Chinese-influenced cuisine of Peru. Here, I savoured an impeccable iteration of stir-fried beef strips mixed with soy sauce, ají peppers, quartered onions and tomatoes served with pile of French fries and a side of rice. For those unfamiliar with the quirks of Peruvian cuisine, this may sound like a strange mash-up of New- and Old-World foods with a Chinese twist – and it is.
I didn’t think of any of this when I ordered my ninth iteration of lomo saltado at Café Inkaterra, an irresistible thatched roof and white stucco restaurant that is the first to come into view upon arrival to town by train.