In Lima, Fried Dough Is Both Indulgent and Revolutionary
The dish’s mass appeal signifies the country’s socioeconomic division
Had I listened to my tía and soaked my hands in water first, la masa wouldn’t cling to my palms like a fragrant, beige paste. I press my fingertips together and try to mimic her swift hands; she stretches la masa into gaping Os and plops them into oil, already shimmering over flame. My fingers do not come back apart. La masa floats, bronzing with the heat and whispering hints of licorice alongside the oil’s gentle gurgle. She eyes me and my newly formed pincers, chuckling. “Are you sure you’re Peruvian?” she asks. “Tal vez las masas son la luz misma, pero esta masa te deja sin manos.” She giggles at her pun and her recollection of history. Masas. Two sides of the same revolutionary coin. Las masas when referring to the masses, the working class, the disenfranchised, el plebeyo. And la masa, or dough, when indulgent eating becomes a revolutionary act within itself.
Before the Spanish superimposed their culinary traditions over colonial Limae, Indigenous Peruvians had already established remarkable ecological frameworks that informed their eating. Utilizing a nature-based framework, Indigenous Peruvians developed advanced agriculture and sustainable harvesting practices. They created laboratories that could…
