SAPID - costa rica

Let’s talk food, baby.

Listen, I love food. I love cooking, savoring, garnishing. I’m that weird person that smells her food before she starts eating. Just put my face right up in the bowl and give it a good whiff. When I’m homesick, I eat Italian. When I’m depressed, I remake the meals I grew up eating. When I’m feeling myself, I spend hours on NYT Cooking deciding which new recipes I’ll try out. One way I hold on to a place, my memories, my moments is by remembering what I ate, what I made, who I shared it with. Here’s my love affair with all things savory: Costa Rica edition.

the market.

The market is first and foremost the most important item on this list. The market is my Disney. I’ve shot entire movies in my head here. The overhead lighting, the shouts from farmers working their stands, the smell of the mariscos in the fridges, the weird and delightful taste of weird fruits, cut into slivers for us to try…every sensory exploitation of the market is it’s own story. I love everything about it. If you’re lucky, I took you to the market when you came to visit. The night starts off with meeting Maikol, one of our first friends in Costa Rica and the messiah of the market. Maikol goes every single Friday, without fail. He knows the vendors (though some know him by a different name…?) and he knows where the better fresas, papas, y albahaca is. He’ll always get you to try some freaky fruit you’ve never seen or heard of before, and he’ll always end the night by ordering up the most incredible tortillas con platano you’ve ever had. Don’t forget the black coffee to go with it (and yes, it’s 7:30pm). A beautiful sunset over Heredia, an endless stream of hilarious conversation over fingerfuls of savory tortilla. Provecho.

i <3 chicharron.

And that’s on chifrijo. I’ve spent paychecks at this place. (I wish I were exaggerating.) When this place opened up, my world opened up. imo, best chifrijo I’ve ever had. They have the vats of pork belly frying in the courtyard, and when it’s brought to you you can basically hear it crackling. I never knew I had a love for pork fat until I experienced the savory crunch of I Love Chicharron. Bless this place, it got me through all times, good and bad.

il Mundo.

“I work so I can eat,” is what Diego said to me while we sat in little bistro chairs waiting for our pizza. Sounds obvious but I think about it all the time. He works so he can eat— the tastiest food possible. I singlehandedly had the best and boujiest pizza on the continent at this place. Since that day, they have happily taken my money any time I missed home a little too much. And sometimes when I missed home just a little bit. And times when I just really wanted good pasta pomodoro. Okay, it was a lot. Thank god I have something to cook tonight.

passiflory.

My heart aches knowing I slept on Passiflory for most of my time in Costa Rica. It’s just out of the way enough that I always told myself, ‘I’ll go eventually’. Why I waited until the months before moving to finally lock in, I’ll never know. But just…go. If you’re in CR, go. If you’re not, make it a trip. It’s such a hidden gem. A little bakery tucked into a corner of Mercedes Norte, you have to cram in with other patrons to fit in the broom closet-like space to order, but it’s worth it. Even just to walk in, look at the incredible inventions they’ve concocted, inhale deeply, then leave. The deep dish pizza with freshly grated Parmesan and basil leaves will have you ascending to the heavens. My dreams look like a checkered blanket, a wicker basket filled with Passiflory, a ditch picnic spot on the grass with the clouds coming in and the farmland rolling below. Thank you gbye

maicero.

I never knew if Maicero was actually good, or if I was just a gringa new to the country, until this place blew up. Some food influencer posted about this place, and suddenly our go-to, quiet breakfast spot had a line down the driveway just to get in. The best way to do Maicero (imho) is to go straight from the airport. Don’t even drop your bags off at Patacaliente, just have the Uber go direct. Hopefully it’s quiet, and you can (re)acclimate to the mileu of Costa Rica surrounded by quintessentially Tico decor, huge puppet costumes used for los payasos (see previous blog post), and blown up images of Barva in the early days. It feels like a hometown, typical joint, but the food is astounding. Even if its 2pm when we come in, I’m getting breakfast. A little pinto, a little avocado, huevos revueltos and pico on a banana leaf…what more could a girl ask for?

surfo’s.

I can’t believe Surfo’s is actually getting a shout out— Month 1 Lauren would be screaming right now. But tbh, well deserved. Have you ever had fried chicken that made you go, “ohh. This is why everyone loves fried chicken?” So much of American cuisine is fried food, and honestly, it’s not even delicious. I’ve never been a huge fried food person, but this chicken makes me understand. This is the joy KFC was bringing to the people before it became a corporate conglomerate. Surfo’s is fried chicken for the people. Also, it’s a dingy, badly lit chicken shop with tons of character, cheap prices, and late hours. Also it’s half Chinese takeout? Also I saved a little girl there once. The lore goes deep.

mau’s.

Okay, a little unconventional, but I wanted to add some places to this list that you’ll never be able to visit yourself and you’ll simply have to live vicariously through me to truly appreciate it (unless you’re Shelbie). The first of which is Mau’s place. Mau is one of people we met in our first month in Costa Rica, before we really knew anyone, or even knew we’d be moving there. Dessert at Mau’s started because we had a school project where we had to create a lesson and teach him, and since it’s me and Shelbie, we were perfectly find with doing the lesson over copious amounts of coffee and pancakes. Thus started a little tradition that we kept up for nearly two years, of going over to Mau’s, overcaffenating, learning new recipies, and talking from the depths of our soul. Casual Lau & Shelb stuff. Among my happiest memories, there is a night or two of maniacal laughter, reggaeton and tres leches. I’ve often considered taking the tres leches recipe I learned from Mau and incorporating it into my family traditions, telling my future children that it’s a recipe passed down from their great-great-grandmother or something. It’s that good.

patacaliente.

This may be a bit of a cop out, but the only way to end this exploration into the savoury is with our home at patacaliente. Like I mentioned at the top, when I’m working out how to be a human in a new space, how to build a home, how to feel at home, I cook. And so many happy mornings in Costa Rica consisted of some concoction that Shelbie or I made. Fresh fruit from the verdulería at the bottom of the hill, gallo pinto that was workshopped to perfection, fried potatoes that remind us of home, and on one occasion, zucchini nut pancakes. The best thing about it was simply that it was at home. The best way to spend time and show love is over a home cooked meal, and I feel that every time I think of the pasta we made for everyone on the compound, our first month there. The onion broth that my brother and Anna made for me when they came to visit but I was too sick to get up. The almond butter loaf that Jess baked when she and Julie came to bask in the sunshine with us. And the many many mornings, quiet and contemplative, sitting on the couch, feeling the breeze through the curtains, just existing.

Lau xx