The Endless Gallo Pinto Debate

(Teresita of Santa Cruz & Skip the Expat)

Skip’s Viewpoint

“Ah, mi amor, you have no idea what true happiness is until you’ve tasted Gallo Pinto con alma!” Teresita says proudly, standing in her colorful kitchen in Santa Cruz. The air smells like heaven! It's a mix of cilantro, onions and a splash of Lizano sauce that could wake up an entire neighborhood.

“My abuela,” she continues, eyes twinkling, “could make Gallo Pinto thirty different ways. Thirty! And that was just before lunch. She had recipes for holidays, rainy days, birthdays, hangovers. . even one for when my abuelo forgot their anniversary.”

Teresita chuckles and waves her spoon dramatically. “She made it with black beans, red beans, beans she swore were lucky beans. Sometimes she’d add chorizo, sometimes plantains, sometimes coconut milk. Once, she added pineapple just to confuse the cat. And it was delicioso!”

She leans closer, whispering, “The secret, Skip, isn’t in the beans or the rice. . it’s in the love and the attitude. You have to stir it like you mean it! If you make it angry, it will taste angry. But if you stir it with joy, it sings!”

Skip sits at Teresita's table, fork poised, looking at the mountain of Gallo Pinto in front of him. “You know, Teresita,” he says, “back in Florida, I thought I was adventurous with breakfast. Sometimes I’d do eggs and toast. Maybe cereal. Occasionally. . a bagel if I felt dangerous.”

He sighs dramatically. “Now I’ve had Gallo Pinto for 362 mornings in a row. I think the only reason I didn’t hit 365 is because I ran out of beans one day and accidentally invented Gallo Pinto Lite.”

Teresita bursts out laughing.

Skip continues, “I’ve tried jazzing it up. Added ketchup once. . bad idea. Tried hot sauce. . MUCH better. One morning, in a moment of homesickness, I poured maple syrup on it. I thought I was creating fusion cuisine. Teresita walked in, gasped like she’d seen a ghost, and crossed herself three times.”

“You don’t put maple syrup on Gallo Pinto!” she scolds.

“Yeah,” Skip replies, “I had a stomach ache for at least three days!"

The Funny Ending Scene

A week later, Teresita calls Skip early in the morning.“Amigo! Get dressed and come hungry! Today is El Gran Festival de Gallo Pinto de Abuela!”

Skip blinks. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, no, no! I made all thirty recipes. You’re the judge!”

Skip arrives to find Teresita’s entire front yard transformed into a Gallo Pinto wonderland. Tables are covered with bowls, skillets, and steaming pots. There’s Gallo Pinto con plátano, Gallo Pinto Caribeño, Gallo Pinto con coco, Gallo Pinto con mango, and something labeled ‘Experimental #27: Do Not Ask Questions.’

Neighbors gather. A mariachi band starts playing “Cielito Lindo.” A rooster crows approvingly from the fence. Neighborhood dogs are barking and the toucans and scarlet macaws line up on the tree branches in the nearby city park!

Skip bravely digs in. By plate number seven, he’s sweating. By number fifteen, he’s giggling. By number twenty-five, he’s seeing beans in 3D! He momentarily flashes back during his college days at The Ohio State University when he won a hot-dog-eating contest during Homecoming weekend! He paid for that for weeks following!

Finally, after tasting Gallo Pinto con chocolate (“don’t knock it till you try it,” Teresita insists), Skip stands up, spoon in hand, and declares, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have reached enlightenment. There is no wrong way to eat Gallo Pinto. There is only… more Gallo Pinto.”

Teresita cheers, waving her apron like a victory flag. “¡Eso, Skip! You are now officially one of us — un Tico de corazón!”

He smiles, belly full, heart happy. “Does this mean I can finally add pancakes on the side?”

Teresita pauses, squints, and then bursts into laughter. “Fine… but only if you promise to pour the maple syrup next to the Gallo Pinto, not on it!”

There's nothing abnormal about eating the same dish over and over and over again.  Sometimes, we expats think we're deserving of a huge variation of what we eat. The fact is that it's all in the love that goes behind it.  And here in Costa Rica, those abuelas know every trick in the book!  

The Real Truth About Gallo Pinto (According to a Tica Who Knows)

Por Teresita de Santa Cruz

¡Ay, Dios mío! Skip and his 362 days of Gallo Pinto... amateur! My neighbor Doña Carmen has been eating it for 87 years straight and she still dances salsa better than people half her age. The secret? The beans give you superpowers, but only if you eat them with respect!

Let me tell you something, mis amores. Skip thinks he discovered something revolutionary when he said "there's no wrong way to eat Gallo Pinto." ¡Por favor! Every Tico baby learns this with their first tooth. But there ARE some unforgivable sins:

The Gringo Gallo Pinto Crimes I've Witnessed:

• Skip's maple syrup incident (my poor kitchen tiles are still traumatized)

• That tourist who asked for "gluten-free rice" (the rice looked offended)

• My cousin's American boyfriend who tried to eat it with a KNIFE AND FORK like it was steak

• The time Skip refrigerated leftover Gallo Pinto for THREE WEEKS and then microwaved it (even the microwave protested with sparks!)

But you know what? Watching Skip's journey from "what is this brown stuff?" to "I see beans in 3D!" has taught me something beautiful. We Ticos take our Gallo Pinto for granted. We forget it's magic!

Skip discovered what every abuela knows: Gallo Pinto isn't just food, it's a lifestyle, a philosophy, a religion! It's the answer to "What's for breakfast?" "What cures hangovers?" "What makes marriages last?" and "Why are Costa Ricans so happy?"

My Abuela's Wisdom (That Skip Still Doesn't Understand)

• If your Gallo Pinto doesn't make noise when you stir it, you're doing it wrong

• The beans must gossip with the rice before they become friends

• Never make Gallo Pinto when you're angry - it absorbs your mood

• If a rooster doesn't crow while you're cooking, add more Lizano

• The perfect Gallo Pinto sounds like rain on a zinc roof when it's sizzling

And about that festival? ¡Qué éxito! Skip became an honorary Tico that day, even though he turned green around recipe #23 (the one with my secret ingredient that I promised my abuela I'd never reveal, but let's just say it involves something that makes iguanas run faster).

The mariachi band wrote a corrido about "El Gringo Valiente del Gallo Pinto." The mayor wants to make it an annual event. And Skip? He's already training his stomach for next year.

He says he's doing "strategic bean preparation." I don't know what that means, but yesterday I saw him doing yoga poses while holding a plate of rice. Gringos are so weird, pero los queremos anyway!

The Truth About Cultural Food Exchange

Skip taught me that sometimes it takes an outsider to remind us how special our everyday miracles are. I never thought Gallo Pinto was exotic until I saw his face the first time I served it at 6 AM. "Beans... for BREAKFAST?" he gasped, like I'd suggested eating clouds or dancing with crocodiles.

Now look at him - he's practically a Gallo Pinto evangelist! Last week, I heard him on a Zoom call with his family in Florida: "No, Mom, it's not just beans and rice. It's a TRANSFORMATION. It's ENLIGHTENMENT. It's... Mom? Mom, are you still there?"

My Challenge to Skip for Next Week's Blog

Since you survived all 30 recipes, amigo, next week we're doing:

• Chifrijo taste test (your gringo stomach vs. my iron-clad Tica digestive system)

• OR you teach me to make a "proper American breakfast" and I'll try not to add Lizano to everything

• OR we settle this once and for all: Costa Rican coffee vs. that brown water you call "coffee" in Florida

But here's my confession, and don't tell Skip this until after he reads the blog: That day when he added maple syrup? After I recovered from the shock and finished my three Hail Marys... I tried a tiny bite when he wasn't looking.

It wasn't... terrible.

¡Pero if you tell anyone, I'll deny it until my dying day!

¡Pura Vida, mis amores! And remember - life's too short for boring breakfast. Unless that boring breakfast is Gallo Pinto, then you can eat it forever and live to be 100 like my abuela!

P.S. - Skip, that "Experimental #27: Do Not Ask Questions" was just regular Gallo Pinto. I wanted to see if the power of suggestion would make you taste something different. ¡You said it was "mysteriously complex!" Ay, estos gringos...