Costa Rica is known for many things: eco-tourism, active volcanoes, coffee, cloud forests, fruit, hummingbirds, not having an army, etc. One thing isn't really known for, however, is food (though eating fresh fruit every morning for breakfast is pretty fantastic). I guess they just spent too much time creating a stable democracy to worry about snack time? And this isn't just me making up facts to suit my narrative; when asked to make a Costa Rican dish, my sister-in-law, who is from Costa Rica and therefore my authority on Costa Rica, explained that Costa Rica doesn't really have a food. The food is just sort of is, I guess. However, on our trip to Costa Rica, I came away with two new food-related loves: jugo de naranja y zanahoria (orange–carrot juice) and gallo pinto. (Incidentally, I also came back from Costa Rica with my first lesson in fresh pineapple preparation, as I may have purchased one from the store and realized too late that I didn't actually know how to operate a whole pineapple, and my sister-in-law's mother was kind enough to show me how it's done.)
Gallo pinto (which means "spotted rooster" in Spanish), is pretty standard breakfast fare, though I usually make it for dinner (and then eat the leftovers for breakfast the next day). It's little more than black beans and rice, though it is better if you reconstitute dried beans (because the cooking liquid is where much of the color of the rice comes from), so you'll need at least some amount of forethought for the bean soaking (unless you have a pressure cooker, like we do, which we got because we are very bad at planning). This recipe is based on the one my sister-in-law gave me, but it's endlessly adaptable.
Start off with 1/2 c. (or a few handfuls—be daring!) of dried black beans. If you are on top of things, you can soak them overnight; otherwise, pressure cook (or simmer) until they are done (you don't want them mushy—they should retain their shape). I usually add a dried chipotle pepper to cook with the beans, because I like the hint of smokiness it imparts, but it's not necessary. Make sure you reserve the cooking liquid, because it's full of tasty goodness. You'll also need to cook up some rice, about 1/2 c. (I like a 1:1 bean–rice ratio, with a slight advantage to the beans). White rice will absorb the most color, but I use whatever is on hand, which is usually a long-grain brown rice.
Next, finely dice half an onion, half a red bell pepper, and a small handful of cilantro. I like to do a rough chop of the onion and pepper, then add the cilantro and finely chop it all together, to help blend the flavors a bit. Costa Rican food, traditionally, isn't very spicy, but you could certainly add a hot pepper of your choice here, or a clove of garlic, though not too much, because you want the flavor of the beans to shine through.
Once the rice is done, heat up a small amount of oil (grapeseed or a mild olive) in a large saute pan on medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the rice and stir frequently until the rice is shiny. Add half of the onion/pepper/cilantro mixture and give it a good fryup until the vegetables are softened. A splash or two (or three) of the bean cooking liquid goes next, which should be allowed to cook off, leaving concentrated flavor and color to the rice. Mix in the beans and remainder of the vegetables, stirring to incorporate everything and heat the beans through. Season to taste; it can take a fair bit of salt (as beans often can). Salsa lizano, which to my understanding is the Costa Rican equivalent of butter mixed with crack in the sense that it goes well with everything, is a traditional addition. I, sadly, did not have any, but old Worcestershire sauce is an acceptable substitute (if you are one of those vegetarians who are OK with the odd anchovy, and the vegetarian version works too if you're not).
Gallo pinto is normally served with eggs, fruit, and a big cup of coffee. I don't drink coffee, but an open-faced gallo pinto/huevo frito/aguacate sandwich is still pretty fantastic. Not being what you'd call a morning person, I usually have gallo pinto for dinner, along with a couple of tortillas (and more avocados, if I am so lucky).
And if you happen to be sitting under an active volcano during breakfast, so much the better.
Um, maybe.
Gallo pinto (which means "spotted rooster" in Spanish), is pretty standard breakfast fare, though I usually make it for dinner (and then eat the leftovers for breakfast the next day). It's little more than black beans and rice, though it is better if you reconstitute dried beans (because the cooking liquid is where much of the color of the rice comes from), so you'll need at least some amount of forethought for the bean soaking (unless you have a pressure cooker, like we do, which we got because we are very bad at planning). This recipe is based on the one my sister-in-law gave me, but it's endlessly adaptable.
Start off with 1/2 c. (or a few handfuls—be daring!) of dried black beans. If you are on top of things, you can soak them overnight; otherwise, pressure cook (or simmer) until they are done (you don't want them mushy—they should retain their shape). I usually add a dried chipotle pepper to cook with the beans, because I like the hint of smokiness it imparts, but it's not necessary. Make sure you reserve the cooking liquid, because it's full of tasty goodness. You'll also need to cook up some rice, about 1/2 c. (I like a 1:1 bean–rice ratio, with a slight advantage to the beans). White rice will absorb the most color, but I use whatever is on hand, which is usually a long-grain brown rice.
Next, finely dice half an onion, half a red bell pepper, and a small handful of cilantro. I like to do a rough chop of the onion and pepper, then add the cilantro and finely chop it all together, to help blend the flavors a bit. Costa Rican food, traditionally, isn't very spicy, but you could certainly add a hot pepper of your choice here, or a clove of garlic, though not too much, because you want the flavor of the beans to shine through.
Once the rice is done, heat up a small amount of oil (grapeseed or a mild olive) in a large saute pan on medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the rice and stir frequently until the rice is shiny. Add half of the onion/pepper/cilantro mixture and give it a good fryup until the vegetables are softened. A splash or two (or three) of the bean cooking liquid goes next, which should be allowed to cook off, leaving concentrated flavor and color to the rice. Mix in the beans and remainder of the vegetables, stirring to incorporate everything and heat the beans through. Season to taste; it can take a fair bit of salt (as beans often can). Salsa lizano, which to my understanding is the Costa Rican equivalent of butter mixed with crack in the sense that it goes well with everything, is a traditional addition. I, sadly, did not have any, but old Worcestershire sauce is an acceptable substitute (if you are one of those vegetarians who are OK with the odd anchovy, and the vegetarian version works too if you're not).
| ¡Qué delicioso! |
Gallo pinto is normally served with eggs, fruit, and a big cup of coffee. I don't drink coffee, but an open-faced gallo pinto/huevo frito/aguacate sandwich is still pretty fantastic. Not being what you'd call a morning person, I usually have gallo pinto for dinner, along with a couple of tortillas (and more avocados, if I am so lucky).
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| Volcan Arenal, which is definitely active, since we saw it erupt. |
And if you happen to be sitting under an active volcano during breakfast, so much the better.
 |
| Just so we're clear, I kept on hiking after this sign. At least until the gate guarded by angry horses. |
Um, maybe.
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