Things get weird down here south of the equatorial line as guinea pigs are splayed out and roasted on a spit right out in the open. Called “Cuy” (an onomatopoeia for the adorable squeaky sound they make) here, the guinea pig is a treat meant to be enjoyed any day of the year, but is an especially tasty Semana Santa meal.
They’re not bad, really, for what they are and the taste is similar to fried chicken but with a salty tough and leathery skin.
I can dig it, but to be honest, and we always are, the novelty wears off about nine tenths of the way through…
