My black sweater was drenched with sweat by the time I got through customs at Liberia Airport. The warm Costa Rican air was both a pleasure and a shock to the system. Having just flown in from the ice-encrusted tundra of Richmond, Virginia, I was still in full-blown winter mode.

The moment I loaded my bags into my parents’ car, I peeled the sweater off and immediately reveled in the feeling of sunshine on my skin. I hopped in the backseat, and my stepdad began navigating their zippy red car through the chaotic city streets, bobbing and weaving around mopeds and dodging chicken trucks. We drove east towards my parents’ long-term rental home off of Lake Arenal, the largest lake in Costa Rica. We clipped ahead along the narrow, gravel roads, twisting and winding around steep curves – my eyes clenched and fingers crossed that oncoming traffic would stay in their lane.

My mother and my stepfather, Mike, have been living in Costa Rica for the past eight months in protest of Donald Trump’s presidency. In their typical fashion, they have filled their days exploring each and every part of the region. If anyone can give me a taste (both literally and metaphorically) of Costa Rica in the span of 5 days, they can. You can follow their adventures at my mother’s blog found here.

As we neared their home at Lake Arenal Condos, I spied a vendor on the side of the road, standing in a makeshift stand built from aluminum siding. The stand sported a colorfully painted, if somewhat rusted, tin roof and a vinyl sign advertising arroz con leche and empanadas. I insisted we stop. We pulled directly next to the stand- mere feet from a steep cliff overlooking a verdant and untamed valley overrun with tropical foliage. Cars zooming past us barely slowed down. We approached the lovely older lady who was selling her wares and ordered two arroz con leches (individual servings of rice pudding)  and a beef empanada. We passed around the empanada- warm and greasy in its little napkin- compact and full of flavor.

Later we split the rice pudding between the three of us and it was unlike any version I’ve had before- the rice was long-grained, thin and cooked almost all dente- not mushy like so many others. The pudding itself was not white, it was a caramel color which could only come from a healthy amount of cinnamon and the slow caramelization of sweetened condensed milk. Needless to say, it was delicious.

The following morning my parents introduced me to a typical Costa Rican breakfast. I filled a little bowl with freshly cut pineapple and topped it with a goat milk yogurt from Tisú Farms, a local dairy farm my parents frequent. My stepdad heated up a frying pan and sliced up some queso freir. Similar to halloumi, queso freir has a high melting point and can be fried up on a hot griddle causing it to crisp up and brown. We fried the cheese along with two local eggs with the brightest and sunniest yellow-orange yolks. I topped the meal with a few healthy tears of fresh cilantro from the local “cilantro man,” who sells handfuls of fresh cilantro on the side of the road with the roots still attached. I generously seasoned the dish with Lizano Sauce, Costa Rica’s signature sauce – similar to Worcestershire or Heinz 57 – and fresh cracked pepper. A warm mug of Costa Rican dark roast coffee was the final component. 

Now– I could have probably lived off of fresh pineapple and fried cheese for the rest of the week- but my family had other plans. For our first lunch, we opted for a visit to a soda for comida tipica. Sodas are generally small, local, family-owned establishments specializing in typical Costa Rican fare. Sodas can have varying hours and usually employ only one or two people. They are also the most inexpensive dining option. They are casual but cozy, with a lot of character. Since I’d only just arrived, I wanted to start the trip out in the spirit of celebrating local cuisine and ingredients.

My parents advised that Soda La Mancha, would be the perfect place to start. From the side of the road, we followed a hand-painted sign and a hanging bridge that led to a tiny open-air dining area nestled inside of a lush canopy of towering tropical trees and brush.

The rain came down as we rushed from the car to the restaurant and once inside we could still hear the rattle of the heavy drops on the tin roof. The walls and eaves were draped with Christmas lights and ornaments and the tile floors were slick with all the rain traipsed in by customers. Every time someone entered or exited, the owner came out to mop up the offending area. 

Per my mother’s suggestion, I ordered a typical Costa Rican lunch consisting of pinto gallo – rice and red beans, fried sweet plantains, and fried tilapia. The dish also came with a small green salad topped with pico de gallo and a side of butter-steamed veggies. According to my mother (and this article), the tilapia in Costa Rica is one of their freshest local offerings, and I will admit that the fried tilapia served at Soda La Macha was much heartier and more flavorful than the tilapia I tend to avoid in the U.S.

After the meal, the owner brought us each a tiny ramekin of arroz con leche on the house, which proved to be the perfect-sized sweet treat after such a substantial lunch. This version resembled the long-grained smooth pudding we picked up from street vendor. While most American-ized versions I have had have been lumpy from overly-cooked puffy rice, the Costa Rican versions I sampled offered a much cleaner and smoother mouthfeel. I’m not sure what their secret is but I’ll gladly leave it to the experts.

Throughout the rest of my trip, I continued to do my best to explore the many culinary options Costa Rica has to offer. I convinced my family to take me to the local supermercado and adjacent produce market and butchery, and I explored the aisles for new and fun sauces and snacks to sample.

All the eggs were stacked up in the aisles at room temperature, a testament to their freshness. I would have loved to take a pallet of those home, as well as any of the fresh produce, herbs, meat or dairy.

One evening we went out to a local open-air food hall in the nearby town of Tilarán for happy hour, and we ordered the patacones with shrimp ceviche from one of the vendors. The dish consisted of smashed plantains that were shaped into little cups, fried, and filled with cilantro-speckled shrimp, red onion, and fresh pico. A flavor combination I intend to recreate as the days get warmer.

After a lovely night’s stay in La Fortuna during which we explored Mistico Hanging Bridges Park, Hotel Los Lagos and Hot Springs, and La Fortuna Waterfall, my parents took me to their favorite sushi restaurant in La Fortuna, Kappa Sushi. I ordered a shrimp tempura roll ‘Tican’ (a person from Costa Rica – term for ‘local’) style with sweet plantain and a spicy citrus sauce. Plantain is the perfect ingredient to add a little sweetness and a little nuance to a dish.

During my time there, I was impressed by the simplicity of daily life and its influence on their cuisine. The people we met seemed less focused on consumption and greed compared to the United States. Ticas appear happy with small pleasures and don’t always seek more.

This mentality aligns with Costa Rica’s mission of sustainability. As a leader in renewable energy, the country aims for zero net carbon emissions by 2050. See this article for more details about recent initiatives (2025). Additionally, Costa Rica is a demilitarized country—though this may change with the recent election of Laura Fernandez, a right-wing populist whose tough-on-crime approach swayed voters (much to my mother’s chagrin). NPR Article about election of Laura Fernandez

This past weekend, in celebration of the culture that I was privileged to enjoy (shoutout to my mom and Mike for an amazing trip ❤ ), I made a Costa Rican-inspired feast. In the spirit of simple living and slow food, I roamed the aisles of my local grocery store with intention – touching each and every avocado within a 3-mile radius and splurging on the most flavorful cherry tomatoes available. I lovingly rinsed, soaked and stewed pinto beans with poblanos, jalapeños, bell pepper and onions- I even bloomed my spices (cumin, smoked paprika, chili powder, cayenne to name a few). I cut up pineapple and squeezed fresh lime and orange juices for mimosas. I patiently stood in line for a nice baguette from my favorite nearby bakery, Janet’s. I had hoped to snag one of their delicious 6$ sheets of focaccia but in the pura vida spirit ( “pure life,” or “simple life”), I allowed myself to sleep in and miss the rush.

Finally, I tried my hand at cooking plantains. As someone who often gets too far into the weeds during my recipe research phase, I took a beat and settled on the simplest approach I could find—cutting plantains into thin medallions and pan-frying them in a neutral oil. Once crispy and brown and the sugars began to caramelize, I pulled the buttery maduros from the oil and sprinkled liberally with smoked Maldon sea salt. So simple, and so delicious.

For the remainder of the week, I kept returning to the leftover rice and beans, plantains, and queso freir, topping them with eggs for breakfast, grilling them into a burrito for lunch, and serving with fresh pineapple and whipped cream for dessert. While nothing can compare to enjoying this fare under a rainbow over Lake Arenal- I’m going to do my damndest to keep the pura vida mindset alive inside of me as long as I can.