fields where pumas, condors and vicuñas can be spotted. Meals are prepared by a staff of local cooks who might serve a starter of tamales and an entree of Andean fingerling potatoes, broad beans and rolled chicken breast with mushrooms.
Jujuy’s cuisine, like the rest of its traditions, is a convergence of colonial and pre-Hispanic influences. Some of the region’s fare, like tamales and grilled llama, is common in several Latin American countries. Others, like locro, a rich corn-and-meat stew, are specifically associated with northwest Argentina.
Restaurants are beginning to offer upscale versions of these staples. El Nuevo Progreso in Tilcara, a bohemian spot run by a Buenos Aires transplant, has llama carpaccio with arugula, and beer-braised lamb with chestnut-and-potatoes mash. Diners linger here sipping regional red wine, surrounded by the owner’s own abstract paintings, listening to jazz CDs or live folkloric music.
While Tilcara has several dining options and services, Purmamarca has the most charm among the Quebrada’s towns. It is tiny — just a few blocks of adobe houses, rustic bars and shops selling everything from silver jewelry and alpaca sweaters to dolls and medicinal herbs — but framed by the greatness of the Cerro de los Siete Colores, or the Hill of the Seven Colors, which is a towering rainbow of green, yellow, purple and ocher rock formations.
From this hill stems the Camino de los Colorados, a gravel path along two miles of geologic wonders: red flat-topped mountains, green conical mountains, uneven purple ridges. Farther west, some 40 miles from Purmamarca, is the Salinas Grandes salt desert, an otherworldly expanse of white flatlands that becomes turquoise when it rains.