Sure, Peru—and especially Machu Picchu—was a magical, mystical experience. But I know what you’re really interested in.

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.