Locro

It had been a long night. And I mean a long night. In fact, it had been a long number of nights. While traveling in South America Caitlin and I had spent a great deal of nights on buses rather than in beds and the road from Argentina into Northern Chile and then back over a border into Bolivia was a long one. A bumpy one. A filled with crazy passengers one. It's not one of my most fond memories of our few months on the continent. 

But sometimes after one of those horrible, long, cold, hours-without-toilet-breaks journeys you roll into a town that restores your faith in travel. You have been wavering, even considering a flight back to civilization but then a sight, a sound, a meal brings you back to the real you're there.  For me a meal was often the thing that turned my day around. In Arequipa it was the ceviche with the red thing, in Buenos Aires our meal at La Cabrera was unforgettable, in Vietnam it was an over-the-top icecream sundae that cured my dodgy tum. Strangely though, my memory of Bolivia isn't filled with too many wonderful meals. Ok, there was the icecream, the cakes, the dinosaur-shaped chocolates, but really the only meal that stands out at all was Locro.

Typical Bolivian refreshments

I'd read about this meal in (what else) the Lonely Planet and was eager to try it. In other cities all we found was tourist food so when I heard of a dish that was what the local people really people ate I was on the hunt. Luckily, it was relatively easy to find as almost every stall at the markets advertised their own special recipe. So we chose one, we sat down, I slurped up a spoonful, and, was unimpressed.  I guess that was locro at its roots: a slow-cooked stew filled with less-than-stellar cuts of meal, some beans, some corn, some potatoes and a few spices - a way to make a little bit of the good stuff go a long way. Naturally though, if the 'good' stuff you're putting in isn't that good to start with, it's unlikely you'll end up with something amazing.

Typical Bolivian Cuisine

Thankfully this recipe makes a pretty damn tasty soup. I came home tired and cold, a little damp after a walk in the park with Ralph and the house was filled with a wonderful comforting aroma: meat, corn and smoked paprika.  The chilli oil on top was fantastic and the extra heat served double purpose, helping to chase away the last of Wil's cold.  Mopped up with some delicious bread this was everything I had sought in South America, and more.

more nutritious local eats

Maybe next time I'm in South America I'll stick to the tourist spots and fresh juices in the markets.  This Winter, and next, I'll be making locro at home. 

Locro from Cuisine Magazine

200g dried chickpeas

150g white beans

2 tsp red pepper flakes

2 tsp paprika

4 tbsp olive oil

500g lamb shoulder chops

2 onions, chopped

2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

2 chorizo, sliced

1 tsp cumin seeds, toasted and ground

1 tsp dried oregano

2 bay leaves

2 Agria potatoes, peeled and diced

1 litre lamb or chicken stock

400g can corn kernels

4 spring onions, sliced

grainy bread, to serve

Set the chickpeas and beans in water in separate bowls overnight. 

Drain the beans and chickpeas and set aside. Preheat the oven to 160degrees. Put the pepper flakes, 1 tsp of the paprika and 2tbsp of the oil in a small bowl. Mix and set aside.

Heat the remaining oil in a large ovenproof dish. Brown the lamb all over and set aside.  Add the onions, garlic, chorizo, cumin, paprika, oregano and bay leaves and try over medium heat until the onions are translucent.  Add the chickpeas, beans, lamb, potatoes and stock.  Bring to a simmer then cover and transfer to the oven.  Cook for 2 hours, or until the lamb is falling off the bone.

Remove from the oven and discard the bay leaves. Remove the lamb from the stew, pull the meat from the bone and return the meat to the stew along with the corn kernels.  Cook on the stove-top at medium heat until it is thick and stew-like.  Season to taste.

Serve topped with the spring onions and chili oil and with plenty of bread on the side.