The least Peruvian thing we could have done

Meat. Giant piles of meat. And MTV from the Eighties.

Last night began as most of our adventures do: with the pursuit of food. The plan was to head to a place in south Trujillo called El Uruguayo, a place with a reputation for large portions of tasty barbeque. We suited up for the outing, as the weather in Trujillo is quite mild and pants were required, and caught a taxi. I started out by incorrectly calling the restaurant El Urugayano, a subtle but important difference. But I had the address so it should have been fine. That is, if Lonely Planet had done their research better.

So, half an hour later, our cab driver determined that El Uruguayano doesn´t exist, the El Uruguayo at that address also doesn't exist, and thanks to an informed local on the street, we learned that the El Uruguayo that we wanted was in a different neighbourhood. Luckily, apologies accompanied by extra cab fare work equally well in Peru.

Upon our arrival we were immediately seated in a lovely dining room complete with animal heads, carvings, and as much chimichurri as I could get into my stomach. This type of eatery is referred to as a parillada, and as such, we ordered the parillada for two and a bottle of, wouldn't you know it, Concha y Toro cabernet sauvignon, the old standby of half-cut soccer moms and precocious dorm residents.

The fawning waiter brought the wine and a giant bowl of salad, which we ate with little hesitation. The presence of avocado in nearly everything means even iceberg lettuce is excellent. But then a funny thing happened; we realized that the TV in the corner was playing the video for cum on feel the noize by Quiet Riot and there was an MTV station tag in the corner of the screen. I remarked that if Quiet Riot were to come on in a restaurant this nice in Canada, patrons would assume it was a joke or a mistake. Then the next video started, La Isla Bonita by Madonna. Then I thought to myself, when was the last time MTV even showed a video?

By that time the food had appeared: a mountain of papas fritas (french fries as prepared by an especially gifted toddler) and the parillada, a two-level metal tray with coals on the bottom and chicken, sausage, beef, and pork heaped on top like a mesquite orgy. At that point, the waiter, tiring of Madonna, skipped ahead on what we then realized was a DVD OF EVERY GREAT MUSIC VIDEO FROM THE EIGHTIES AND NINETIES. It was called Rock Fiesta. Yes it was.

The combination of delicious meat, spicy sauces, oil-soaked starch, and Natalie Imbruglia caused a sort of coma of delight. We tried to drink our wine more slowly so we could watch more videos. Sadly, we didn't have enough cash with us to stay there drinking all night. So we paid and left. The waiter even gave us a calendar to take home.

So now I have a mission for this trip: find and purchase Rock Fiesta. And if you're looking for a good time in Peru, head to El Uruguayo for Uruguayan food, Chilean wine, and American music videos.