On a warm April morning, agronomist Alipio Canahua and Executive Chef José Maguiña prepare to plant quinoa in the gardens outside the Hotel Libertador in Puno, Peru, which sits on a picturesque island just off the coast of Lake Titicaca. The lush gardens are an experiment in sustainable horticulture—providing herbs, edible flowers, and now, rare varieties of quinoa to the hotel’s kitchen.
Canahua, along with his plant scientist colleagues and international experts, fear this trend will continue to threaten quinoa. For the high-altitude, climate change vulnerable farms where highland quinoa grows, a less diverse range of crops can spell certain doom for farmers, leaving them susceptible to catastrophic failure.
As part of that project, Canahua was asked to set up a small exposition for visiting businesspeople from the U.S.-based Quinoa Corporation in the early 2000s. With only 24 hours to prepare, he decided to host a dinner instead, showcasing different varieties of quinoa. He phoned his friend, Chef José Maguiña, for help. The pair decided to feature pasankalla rojo and chulpi—two varieties that Canahua was hoping to revive after documenting their decline in the Puno region.
Canahua worked with local farmers over the next few years to increase the supply to meet the new demand, and they suddenly had a partnership with the then-largest importer of quinoa worldwide. Watching two humble dishes produce global demand for red quinoa cemented Canahua’s faith that a single dish, meeting the right palates, can turn the quinoa market on its head.
Maguiña is particularly keen to use local and traditional products—around 80 percent of the ingredients they use in the kitchen come from local markets or directly from farmers in the region. His use of “traditional” foods in high-end cuisine performs a double function: It lets local elites see countryside staples in a new light, and it gives tourists an opportunity to try exotic ingredients and flavors.