So … where did I draw the line?

At a crowded food stall in Cuzco’s main market, I found people slurping away at bowls of soup beneath the following sign.

And why not? Who wouldn’t want to be cured of epilepsia or dolor de cabeza?

But the problem was … well …

You know the old saying that if you eat a live frog first thing in the morning, nothing worse will happen to you the rest of the day?

You do? Then you’ll know what I saw beneath that sign, eagerly waiting to be dropped into my soup.

That’s right.

Frogs!

I decided to let them live another day. Or another few minutes, until some local bought a bowl of soup in hopes of being cured of prostrata.

Are you disappointed in me?

When I learned that we would have an evening free in Lima at the end of our week spent exploring Machu Picchu, Ollantaytambo, Sacsayhuaman, and other awe-inspiring sites, I was determined that I wouldn’t permit exhaustion to cause us to fall back on room service or a hotel restaurant. I wanted more than a meal. I wanted magic. And after a bit of research, I decided the best place to ingest that magic was at Astrid y Gaston, voted one of the 50 best restaurants in the world. I sent emails to our Lima hotel, hoping that the concierge would have luck snagging us a table, but by the time our trip began, I’d heard nothing back. So I started to worry.

And then, as I boarded our American Airlines flight in Miami, I saw the name of the chef, Gastón Acurio, on the cover of the inflight magazine, and a lengthy article inside touting the wonders of his kitchen. And I worried some more.

Because though I couldn’t understand Spanish, I did understand that such a piece might increase the already high demand for tables at Astrid y Gaston. So the first thing I did when I saw our tour operator after landing was to ask if he could help get us a reservation later that week. He did, and so on Friday night, we cabbed over, along with a few friends we’d made on the trip, to the restaurant one food critic called, “my favorite restaurant in Peru.”

When we arrived a few minutes before the 7:00 p.m. opening, the door was locked, the shutters were closed, and except for the small sign on an exterior wall, we had no way of knowing we were in the right place. But exactly at 7:00, the door was flung open, and we were warmly welcomed and shown to our table near the kitchen.

As we studied the whimsical menu—the Peking guinea pig was described as “Tired of being rejected by the world, the guinea pig decides to disguise itself as a Peking duck, dressed with rocoto and purple corn crepe. It got a standing ovation from everyone.”—we were presented with an amuse bouche of mango cebiche and delicate fish puffs the ingredients of which my palate isn’t educated enough to even begin to describe. Luckily, the restaurant kindly sent me a copy of its English-language menu, so I can accurately share the rest of what I ate.

For my appetizer, I chose—

Pulpo atrapado en un cilindro ardiendo (octopus trapped in a smoker cylinder on fire) The smoke disguised the octopus as an anticucho skewered meat. Some botija black olive bubbles extinguished its fire. We give you a little Peruvian yellow potato to relieve the pain.

When I took the first bite, the world faded away. My eyes closed, sound diminished, and I went inside myself. The octopus was so transformative—the best I’d ever eaten—that each time it touched my tongue, my ability to converse faded away. I almost lost the power of thought!

For her appetizer, Irene chose—

Pejerrey silverside fish and other fish They are all celebrating, all fried and crispy. Multicolored streamers are falling, getting wet in sauces of hundreds of flavors. It’s a carnival.

(See what I mean about the whimsy of the menu?)

We shared each other’s dishes, of course, and in fact, all of us at the table traded nibbles, and the flavors were astonishing. I laughed, I cried, I got verklempt. I felt touched by God. Do I exaggerate? Perhaps But if you’d been there, so would you.

For my main course, I chose—

Tender baby goat The entire leg in a stew. Watercress salad. Lifelong Mortar-and-pestle potatoes. Juicy baby onions. Juice reduction with aromatic herbs. A classic.

I ordered it not just because I enjoy goat, but because it was the first time I’d ever seen baby goat on a menu. It was so tender that pressing gently against the meat with my fork was enough to remove it from the bone. And the flavor was exquisite.

Irene’s main course—

Suckling pig The entire leg … the rest is in a chifa (Peruvian-Chinese cuisine) version: A mimpao. A spring roll. A pancake. Some juice from a five-flavor chifa.

—was the most surprising. Who expects a suckling pig slider? The meat was luscious. (And it made me want to roast another suckling pig of my own, even though it would be nowhere near as good.)

Then it was time for dessert. I ordered—

La Manzana castigada (The Punished Apple) Baked apple in a caramel shell, served with dulce de leche spread foam, sphered apple juice reduction and ginger ice cream.

While someone else at the table chose—

Plátanos enjaulados dulcemente (Sweetly trapped bananas) Bananas in a caramel cage, served with coconut tapioca, goat cheese ice cream, Tía Rosa ́s sweet bean paste and cacao sauce with spices.

Again, the five of us shared, and lo, there was much giggling, for we were in the presence of magicians.

Here you see the happy band of travelers, the kitchen a flurry of activity behind us.

After three hours of dining, we were thinking it was time to relinquish our table. After all, the 3-1/2 hour tasting menu would begin at 10:30. (Tempting, but with a 3:30 a.m. wake-up call the following morning, I didn’t feel up to eating until 2:00 a.m.!) As we whispered to each other that perhaps we should ask for the check, our server appeared with a box which he placed in the center of our table. He opened four drawers to reveal yet another amuse bouche.

And the magic continued!

When we departed, I was satiated, but not stuffed, and I was exhilarated. (There were times during the meal when if you’d touched my arm, you would have felt goosebumps. Really!) I felt a little sad the next day, because how likely is it that I’ll ever be in Peru again to experience such a masterpiece of a meal? But then I thought … that is probably as it should be. A great meal is as ephemeral as a great theatrical performance, existing outside of time, never to be recreated.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not already thinking—how the heck can I manage to get back to Lima?

As we departed, I told any Astrid y Gaston employee who would listen that after the meal they served us, I was unsure which I would talk about the most to my friends after I got home—Machu Picchu or Astrid y Gaston. And to be honest, I’m still not sure which was the clear winner.

Yes, it was that good.

Luckily, one of my new UK friends, found through George Formby fandom, recommended that I purchase a tiny Kala pocket ukulele, created just for that purpose.

Which I did!

And so if you were in Peru the first week of May, you’d have found me holding my uke aloft at Machu Picchu …

… along the Inca Trail, in front of a backdrop that seemed perfect for a performance of “When I’m Cleaning Windows” …

… and at Intipunku, the Sun Gate, with Machu Picchu far below in the distance.

But don’t worry—I did not destroy the serenity of the site by strumming when others were about … only when I found myself alone on the trail or when I was in my hotel room.

Sadly, though I played a song and attempted to capture video of the performance to prove that though I’m not the best interpreter of George Formby, I’ve likely performed him at the highest altitude, my Flip died in the middle of recording. So, no evidence!

Which is probably just as well …

Well, not the Batmobile. More like a Batmobile—a small taxi with a rear window in the shape of the Bat symbol. I wasn’t quick enough with my camera to snap a photo, however, and when we headed back after our climb, even though I was vigilant, I didn’t spot it again as we meandered through the small town. And that, I thought, was that.

But later in the week, as we bussed toward Cuzco after our stay in Machu Picchu, I spotted five other similar vehicles with Batman decorations in small towns along the route. I was only fast enough snap a shot of this one, but it’ll give you an idea of what I mean.

But those half dozen vehicles weren’t all.

Because later in the week, as I stepped from the Convent of Santo Domingo in Cuzco, I saw this bus momentarily stopped in traffic.

Before it could pull away, I was able to snap this side pic as well.

I had no idea why these Bat-vehicles were all over Peru, and now that I’m back home and have had a chance to search online for a reason, I’m still not entirely sure. Various sites report that:

If you are staying in Cuzco for a long time, the Combis are a cheap and reliable form of transportation. These are the Volkswagen vans and small buses with names like Imperial, Batman, or Zorro.

OK, so I get that they exist. But that doesn’t really explain why they exist. Is Batman a revered character in Peru? Were the comics, movies, TV shows, etc., major cultural influences? If you have any theories, let me know.

But there was still one final Batman to come. While wandering Lima’s Miraloflores LarcoMar Mall, I ran across this game in an arcade.

Unlike the Bat-vehicles, which I assume to be copyright infringements (tell me if I’m wrong, please), this superhero version of Whac A Mole is an officially licensed product.

And yes, I did proceed to bop the Joker, the Riddler, and even Harley Quinn. But then, you knew that I would, right?

The same way you knew I would eat all the guinea pig I could get my hands on …

April’s night-time guest stars included Woody Allen, Paul Witcover, Stubby Kaye, Nick Nolte, Tom Disch, Gene Wolfe, and … well, you’ll see.

APRIL 2012

I dreamt I was on a bus heading toward Machu Picchu. Oddly, the mountains were as snowy as Everest. Good thing I’ll find out for real soon! 28 Apr

I dreamt an actor took ill in a Shakespearean play my friend Allan was directing, and I had to suddenly fill in. Also subbing — Janis Ian. 27 Apr

I dreamt I woke from a nap in my 1976-1982 Brooklyn apt., sunlight streaming through the windows. But when was it? I reached for my iPad! 26 Apr

I dreamt @Annaleen and I were walking across the Golden Gate Bridge on the way to our jobs as copywriters at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce. 26 Apr

I dreamt I wandered Avenue P with Irene, pointing out all that changed since I was a kid. But then I blinked, and everything was as it was. 25 Apr

I dreamt I searched for someone in a hospital along with @EllenDatlow. Don’t remember who we were looking for but we never found him or her. 25 Apr

I dreamt I delivered a satchel filled with cash, and once I made the handover, was accused of stealing one of the $10,000 bundles. I hadn’t. 24 Apr

I dreamt old friend Kate Stone handed me a file to underwrite a mortgage application, and I thought — do I still remember how to do that? 24 Apr

I dreamt I followed deer tracks along the soggy bottom of a riverbed … until the water rose and the tracks could no longer be seen. 24 Apr

I dreamt I was an old black man interviewing black kids while Woody Allen watched through one-way glass deciding which to cast in new movie. 24 Apr

I dreamt about Richard Webber from Grey’s Anatomy, but because my sleepy handwriting is so illegible, I have no catalyst to remember why. 23 Apr

I dreamt I walked out of a crappy movie, and found Neil Patrick Harris in the lobby, having done the same. We talked about its crappiness. 23 Apr

I dreamt a famous chef prepared an insanely expensive meal for me and hovered as I tasted. The whimsical food was so good, it made me laugh. 23 Apr

I dreamt Irene and I stole a boatload of secret gov’t docs. Before we could go public, we were caught, given a stern warning, and let go. 23 Apr

I dreamt Irene and I wandered into a restaurant which only sold soup, served in whimsical Willy Wonka style. The soup itself didn’t impress. 22 Apr

I dreamt I swarmed a restaurant with Paul Witcover and other friends to discover tables of tapas. But not enough for all, so it was chaos! 22 Apr

I dreamt I woke to learn my mother had died during the night, then found she’d left a phone message. Her final advice: “Get more sleep.” 22 Apr

I dreamt I ran through dark NYC streets wearing a white and blue superhero costume, my cape fluttering behind me. I don’t remember my name. 22 Apr

I dreamt Nick Nolte was a charismatic cult leader, and a follower killed herself by beating her head against a wall rather than obeying him. 21 Apr

I dreamt that after breaking into an office to track down my parents’ origins, I was pepper sprayed by an agent who said I’d never find out. 20 Apr

I dreamt Len Wein and Marv Wolfman pulled me into a private DC Comics meeting about the company’s plans. (I wish I could remember them!) 20 Apr

I dreamt I watched Stubby Kaye perform a show-stopping number on Broadway, but he had a wretched cold, and so he apologized before he began. 19 Apr

I dreamt I wandered a gallery with a director (forgotten IRL) trying to track down painting by a certain artist, and the curator snubbed us. 17 Apr

I dreamt I stayed at a B&B owned by @lawrenceschimel, who brought me a mug of coffee, which I don’t drink. I wondered how not to insult him. 17 Apr

I dreamt I was contacted by a travel company promoting its round-the-world walking trip, and I tried to figure how I could take a year off. 17 Apr

I dreamt George R. R. Martin appeared on a episode of Chuck as an efficiency expert. (Too bad that dream-to-reality DVR doesn’t exist yet!) 16 Apr

I dreamt I wandered a party at which all that remained of the food was scraps — huge platters filled only with garnish and lettuce bits. 16 Apr

I dreamt I was baffled to be asked to sign a Superman novel I hadn’t written. (And more baffled to see it already signed by Isaac Asimov!) 16 Apr

I dreamt @BrianKeene, rather than blogging, posted daily humorously self-deprecating YouTube videos. The soundtrack? That Benny Hill music. 15 Apr

Now here’s a dream I wish you could have seen — the audio from “Singing in the Rain” mashed up with video from Abbott and Costello movies! 14 Apr

I dreamt I worked for that Mad Men ad agency, only it must have been more modern, because coworkers complained I spent too much time online. 14 Apr

I dreamt my NYC friends (now sleeping under my roof IRL) were debating Italian renaissance architecture (which they’ve never done IRL). 14 Apr

I dreamt I interviewed Jerry Lewis, all choked up over some show biz anniversary. Then @LenWein came by, and they vanished down a mineshaft. 13 Apr

I dreamt I was the Hand of the King, showing off my doubled-bladed ax by swinging it before a crowd that was careful not to get too close. 11 Apr

I dreamt that while waiting for a table at Ben’s, I saw @EllenDatlow in the long line ahead of me. I shouted her name, but she didn’t hear. 10 Apr

I dreamt I was being followed by three guys I knew would mug me, so I hid most of my cash in an air conditioning vent and let it happen. 10 Apr

I dreamt I pontificated to @2muchexposition and others about the Periodic Table of Con Suite Junk Food, from Twizzlers to Swedish fish. 10 Apr

I dreamt I drove to Cape Cod. When I got there, it was cold, foggy, rainy, and unpleasant. I wasn’t dressed for it, so I headed right home. 9 Apr

I dreamt Allan Steele and I sat on the floor of a con suite somewhere, discussing old timey comics. Wish I could remember which ones! 9 Apr

I dreamt that as I roamed a U.S. airport, I was stunned to bump into @CherylMorgan, who explained her problems had been a misunderstanding. 9 Apr

I dreamt Gene Wolfe shut our gas to install a new oven, but I didn’t trust him and we joked about the resulting crater if he made a mistake. 9 Apr

I dreamt I was at a SDCC panel when a young Robert Morse walked in and pointed at me. That’s when I realized my shirt had his 3-D pic on it. 8 Apr

I dreamt a male zombie and a female vampire slept side by side in a cave in coffins. He longed for her, and missed her when she was gone. 8 Apr

I dreamt I was being chased by a pack of wild dogs, and learned that unlike what you might think, playing dead doesn’t help. 8 Apr

I dreamt that while in Florida on the way to Machu Picchu I visited @ColleenLindsay at the 911 call center where she worked as a dispatcher. 7 Apr

I dreamt I wandered a carnival, doing my best to ignore the pleading patter of the barkers, who popped up again and again to block my way. 6 Apr

I dreamt the universes merged, and all my alternate versions fought for survival, resulting in me standing over a big pile of dead Scotts. 6 Apr

I dreamt I got lost driving to a con, ended up a cancer infusion center. Met a woman who felt her session worked best when trains passed by. 5 Apr

I dreamt that when a priest in Rome learned who I was, he asked me whether I’d known Tom Disch, and when I said yes, led me to Tom’s grave. 2 Apr

I dreamt that a cute baby had been left behind in a basket in my shop, and I wondered how long I’d have to wait before raising it as my own. 2 Apr

I dreamt I rented a room from that dysfunctional family in the Showtime TV series Shameless. Life there was _very_ chaotic! 2 Apr

How did all those guinea pigs taste?

And before you accuse me of barbaric behavior for dining on animals which have been domesticated as pets in the U.S., all I can say to that is, when it comes to guinea pigs—or cuy, as they’re called in Peru—the question I always ask myself is … what would Jesus do?

And what Jesus would do is—eat the guinea pig!

Want proof? Check out this 1753 painting by Marcos Zapata from the Cathedral of Cuzco showing Christ and the Apostles about to dig into some cuy. And if it’s good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.

I ended up eating cuy four times over the course of our week in Peru. Which restaurant prepared it the best? You’ll find that out below.

My first cuy was ordered as appetizers during my dinners Sunday and Monday at the restaurant in the Hotel Sol y Luna in Peru’s Sacred Valley. The dish was described as “piernitas de cuy confitadas con papas a la sal de maras y uchucuta,” or “crunchy guinea pig legs with maras salt potato and uchucuta sauce.”

The uchucuta—or Andean hot sauce—proved to be much too spicy for me, but the cuy was the juiciest of the three. The meat tasted dark, like a chicken thigh, and was so good that I ordered the same appetizer each of the two nights we stayed in the Sacred Valley.

We spent Tuesday night at the Sanctuary Lodge in Machu Picchu, and surprisingly, there was no cuy available during any of our meals there, so I’d have to wait until Wednesday night in Cuzco to taste a differently prepared guinea pig. We had a free night in Cuzco to dine at a restaurant of our choosing, and so I asked our tour guide which spot he’d choose in that city for his last meal. It was between Limo and Chicha. I studied their menus, and was equally tempted by both, but chose the latter because the chef who ran Chicha was Gastón Acurio, who also ran Astrid y Gastón, which I hoped to visit during our free night in Lima, and I wanted to be able to compare their offerings.

The guinea pig below, called “cuy pekinés,” was the most interesting of the three. It consisted of “Cuy laqueado, panqueques de choclo, jalea de rocoto, nabo encurtido.” As you can see from the photo, the dish is basically Peking duck, but with guinea pig instead of duck. I’ve also heard it advertised as “guinea pig in a Chinese disguise.”

This cuy had the crispest skin, and the combination of tastes and textures as the guinea pig was placed in extremely tender pancakes and then covered with what I believe was pickled turnip plus a spicy (but not hot) sauce was delightful. An exquisite dish.

My final cuy was chosen for my entree during lunch Thursday at the MAP Cafe in Cuzco’s Museo de Arte Precolombino. This dish was described as “cuy drumsticks over a spongy corn puree.” The guinea pig was prepared similar to what I ate the first night, but unfortunately, this time around it wasn’t quite as juicy, so it came in third. I still don’t regret ordering it, because I’ll always pick dishes I’m unable to get at home when dining in foreign countries. If possible, I’d have had even more cuy.

Of course, with all the alpaca, octopus, sweetbreads, suckling pig and baby goat I was eating, there probably wouldn’t have been room for more cuy even if I could have found it on the menu!

One final note—if the thought of guinea pig makes you queasy, do not click through here to check out the cuy I ate back in Quito in 2001, as it’s far more recognizable as guinea pig than the dishes on this page, and isn’t for those with delicate sensibilities.

In Machu Picchu!

And while I was there—and at the fortress at Ollantaytambo, and by Intipunku, the Sun Gate (from which you can, below, see Machu Picchu way off in the distance)—I oddly found myself thinking The Great Gatsby.

I’ll have more to share about the experience later, once I’ve recovered and had time to process it all, but for now, I just want to say—remember that passage a few paragraphs from the end of The Great Gatsby, the section that speaks of finally finding a thing “commensurate to his capacity for wonder”?

And as the moon rose higher the inessential houses began to melt away until gradually I became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailors’ eyes—a fresh, green breast of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the presence of this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the last time in history with something commensurate to his capacity for wonder.

Though the analogy made there isn’t an exact match for what I felt as I clambered over the ancient stones and walked the Inca Trail, I was indeed feeling a sense of wonder, and also feeling that here was something truly worthy of that wonder. We so often say that things are awe-inspiring when they’re not really inspiring awe. But in this case, I was filled with awe, positively gobsmacked by it.

Didn’t expect to be thinking of Jay Gatsby as I fought off altitude sickness. But there you have it.

More thoughts and pics to follow later!

(And, yes, that is a ukulele in my hands.)

She shared two quotes she kept taped by her computer back then, and since she passed them on to us all in 1994, I don’t think she’d mind if I passed them on again in 2012.

First, here’s what Gertrude Stein had to say about art, as given to Eileen by Avram Davidson:

Art has no function. It is not necessary. It has nothing to do with what anyone wants you to do or wants it to be, nothing but you and itself. The work generates itself and ideas and progress and learning come out of doing the work in a particular way. Creative art is a learning process for the artist and not a description of what is already known.

An audience is always warming but it must never be necessary to your work. The work needs concentration and one is often exhausted by it. It takes so much effort just to begin and although going on is mostly a pleasure it is also a great effort. The only thing for a creative artist to do is to do his chosen work.

But really there is no choice. Nobody chooses. The only thing left for a creative artist to do is to do his chosen work in spite of everything and regardless of anything because when living draws to its end there are no excuses he can make to himself or to anyone else for not having done it. Either he did do it or he did not do it and very often he did not. Alas very often he did not.

Quote number two comes from Bruce Sterling:

Forget trying to pass for normal. Follow your geekdom. Embrace nerditude. In the immortal words of Lafcadio Hearn, a geek of incredible obscurity whose work is still in print after a hundred years, “Woo the muse of the odd.” You may be a geek. You may have geek written all over you. You should aim to be one geek they’ll never forget.

Don’t aim to be civilized. Don’t hope that straight people will keep you on as some sort of pet. To hell with them. You should fully realize what society has made of you and take a terrible revenge.

Get weird. Get way weird. Get dangerously weird. Get sophisticatedly, thoroughly weird, and don’t do it halfway. Put every ounce of horsepower you have behind it. Don’t become a well-rounded person. Well-rounded people are smooth and dull. Become a thoroughly spiky person. Grow spikes from every angle. Stick in their throats like a pufferfish.

You’d do well to remember both of these passages.

So would I.

For my five-month performance, I’ve decided to go with George Formby’s “When I’m Cleaning Windows,” even though I’m in no way ready for it, because a) I’ve fallen madly in love with Formby, and b) I’ve read that, “If you play the ukulele in England then everyone who sees you will ask if you can play ‘When I’m Cleaning Windows.’” So I’d better start figuring it out then, eh?

A word of warning for those familiar with Formby—there’s no attempt at a solo below, as I’m a long way off from taking a stab at that. But let this be a testament to how far a guy can get in his first five months … plus something to look back on and chart my progress with once I’ve really figured out what I’m doing.

And so, here’s my first ragged stab at a classic.

DeZuniga, who co-created Jonah Hex and has been responsible for thousands of beautiful images, is in critical condition in a hospital in the Philippines, and his family has reached out to the comics community.

His wife Tina has said:

It’s really tough since Tony doesn’t have insurance here. The medication is very expensive and hospital bill is paid cash 90% Our daily bill is around $1,500 even if we have some money it’s drained out already. I have a house here but the process of getting a loan would take time and I can’t be gone long away from the hospital.

As for Tony’s condition, I will give you a brief history and update – he had a stroke in the morning of Tuesday last week (we’re 16 hours ahead) The stroke damaged the brain. it has bleeding inside and they need to open up the brain but with so much medication they were able to stop the bleeding but the brain was swollen so they need to take the pressure out so they need to insert a tube to release the pressure but since I don’t want them to open up it created an hernia. His condition is so unstable. He got infection that they need to treat, his pneumonia, need to be watched because he’s having problem breathing and blood pressure on top of the heart. With too much medications his stomach bleeds. One on top of the other. Anyway. Any little help will be greatly appreciated.

Here I am with Tony, a great artist and a great guy, back in 2008.

If you’re wondering whether you should help, perhaps Neal Adams can sway you:

For everyone who receives this, Tony DeZuniga was the first Filipino artist whose work was accepted by an American Publisher. And it was he who opened up the door for Alex Niño, Nester Redondo, Alfredo Alcala, Rudy Nebres, Dusty Abell, Ernie Chan (Chua), and a dozen other artists.

Tony has returned to the Philippines and is in dire straits. May I ask you for a donation to help him and his family out in this time of need? Lack of medical insurance is the band of our existence as freelancers. For those of us who have medical insurance, we know the peace of mind it brings.

Please, whether as a favor to me, or to help a fellow comic book artist, or for any other reason you can do it, please find a way to send an amount of money that you feel you can afford.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

If you find yourself moved to help out, please use PayPal to send funds (as I just did) to tonydezuniga@yahoo.com, which will go into Tony’s daughter’s account.

Please give whatever you feel you can. Thank you.