Green Tea Coconut Rice


I’m a bit obsessed with Matcha green tea.

Maybe it has something to do with the bright grassy flavor that almost makes the mouth pucker. Perhaps it’s because with Matcha, you drink the entire tea leaf, not leaves infused in hot water and then removed. It could be the disarmingly green color and hear me clearly, it should be bright and bold.

The color actually reflects the quality of the tea. While there are cheap versions of Matcha out there, you’ll find them to be dull in color and flat in flavor. Spend the money and invest in good Matcha. You might find yourself newly obsessed. This Japanese green tea typically is served infused with hot water and a special whisk to froth it. Often times, and in the United States it’s become popular to whisk Matcha with hot milk for a creamy beverage.

Maybe you’ve tried Matcha and you didn’t know it. If you’ve guzzled a Green Tea Smoothie or licked and slurped Green Tea ice cream, then chances are pretty high that you too have lapped on the luxurious green tea that is Matcha.

So it’s not such a far leap to consider how that bright, grassy flavor might deepen the creamy decadence that is Coconut Rice. I give you two suggestions below: for a more subtle Green Tea Coconut Rice, use only 2 teaspoons of Matcha and you’ll find the tea will paint the rice kernels a pale green with a flavor profile that is creamy, almost sweet with a slight green tea finish. For something a bit more bold and pictured below, use 2 tablespoons of Matcha green tea and you’ll find a much more pronounced tea flavor, a bright green hue with a slight creaminess of coconut. This bolder Green Tea Coconut Rice really works well and stands up to Asian cuisine like the Thai take-out we ordered for dinner earlier in the month.

SIDE DISH RECIPES- green-tea-coconut-rice




YIELD: 6-8 side servings

This is one grassy and stark green rice. If you want something a bit more subtle where you get the green tea flavor in the finish with the coconut milk playing front fiddle, use only 2 teaspoons of Matcha. I tried it this way and it is a subtle cerulean green with a creamy slightly sweet flavor that ends on a grassy bright note. I prefer mine with more tea and even found it stood up to the flavors of Thai food when we paired it with take-out earlier in the month. It’s your call. I wouldn’t suggest swapping out light coconut milk for the real deal. It’s really quite pronounced of a difference and your rice is left wanting that supple quality that the full fat milk brings to it and the mingling with tea. Also, I tried this recipe with basmati rice but found the texture to be superb with a long grain white rice which served as a great canvas for the flavors. Special thanks goes out to friend Caryl at Lotus Foods for giving me samples of their specialty Mekong Flower rice to test in the recipe. It cooked up beautifully and gave a great texture.

1 1/2 cups water

2 tablespoons Matcha green tea

2 cups long grain white rice

1 13.5 ounce can coconut milk

  1. Rinse rice twice and discard rinsing liquid. Set aside.
  2. Bring water to a gentle boil. Measure out your Matcha and place in a measuring receptacle (like my Pyrex 2 cup measuring glass), slowly whisk in the boiling water. Now this is key: while you are eventually going to add enough water to the Pyrex glass to equal that 1 ½ cups, initially during the whisking stage, you want to only pour in a little bit of water- say ½ cup as it will make whisking easier. As you notice that any large clumps or notice that your tea is without clumps, add the rest of the hot water and whisk.
  3. Add your coconut milk and whisked Matcha tea to a heavy pot and place over high heat, stirring together. Once you find that the coconut milk and Matcha have integrated well and you are beginning to have larger bubbles on the surface of the liquid, add the rinsed rice and stir.
  4. Cover your pot and turn down the heat. Simmer for 20 minutes on low heat.


This is a very versatile and unexpected side dish. The key is to pair it with foods that will not overpower the Matcha and coconut flavors.  I’ve provided a few ideas to get you started. Let me know if you come up with your own pairing suggestions.

FISH- Consider pairing with a filet of salmon or perhaps this Confetti Tilapia.

VEGETARIAN- Serve with a side of the white beans from this stew.

CHICKEN-  Try this with roasted chicken seasoned with garlic, ginger and shallots.


You could dice fresh coconut and throw it into the pot for an extra punch of coconut or textural difference. You could even toast some unsweetened coconut and then sprinkle some on top of your finished fluffed rice as pictured above. I find that the rice is lovely without either of these additions, though I tried it with both. Your choice.




Jose Maria’s Gallo Pinto


Have you ever stalked an ingredient before?

This is what it must feel like to be the hunter: to crane your ear toward the direction of the prey and listen for a rustling- to look with eyes that see beyond the veneer of branches and blades of grass for what moves among that which doesn’t – to be poised and ready.

It’s been a little over two months since we visited Costa Rica. Over the course of our two weeks there, we became intoxicated by the tranquility of Nosara and elated at making new friends with Jose Maria and Francisco from an old connection, my Dad, in San Jose.

If a dish existed that personified that place it might be Gallo Pinto. Such affection bubbles up in the national conscience for this humble yet tasty combination of rice and beans that is thoroughly Tico. We noticed it on menus early on in our stay and had an opportunity to try Gallo Pinto on different occasions. I knew this one would be packed safely in my luggage to be enjoyed on many occasions by the mister and I as recipes are duty free and not given to customs searches.

Back to the elusive ingredient- as we waited in the San Jose airport, I wandered. I tend to do this when in airports unless deeply sunken into a book. One of the few stores I walked into had shelves upon shelves loaded with tchotchkes. I smiled and considered taking a photo of Gallo Pinto in a can. Somehow this didn’t seem like the penultimate way to enjoy this national dish. Close to it was a bottle of Salsa Lizano, which we’d seen don the tables at the restaurants we’d visited akin to a bottle of Heinz in the United States.

Now pay attention. I remember picking it up and thinking how novel it was to find this salsa in this airport tourist trap (more like Worcestshire sauce than the Mexican variety, as salsa means sauce). I set the bottle back down on the shelf, sampled one of the chocolate covered pineapple bits on the counter and walked back to our gate.

A few days in and with curiosity piqued, Jose Maria kindly shared his recipe for Gallo Pinto with me. He exclaimed the absolute importance of Salsa Lizano to this dish and the crucial Costa Rican flavor that makes this Gallo Pinto, hoping it would not be difficult for me to find now that I was back in San Francisco. Inside I scoffed thinking, this is San Francisco, a mecca for foodies, not at all concerned about locating this small Tabasco sized bottle of sauce.

The hunt was on!

Off I went on two buses to Fisherman’s Wharf one Saturday and the World Market. Sadly, I exited the automatic doors sans salsa and sorely wondering how the store could live up to its name. Next, I chided myself for not going to the granddaddy of search and hopped online onto google. Much to my growing dismay, I found a forum online dedicated to salsa lizano and trying to conceive of a recipe to make it frequented by people who could not find it stateside but had to special order it in bulk. Not for me. On a hunch and slim suggestion, I headed to El Chico in the Richmond, praying as I began perusing the aisles past produce. My eyes strained as they looked for that familiar label and swooped typeface of Lizano. After a double check and a confirmation check with one of the employees, I left empty-handed. This didn’t thwart my mission, to the contrary, it upped the ante. I put the escapade on hold for a week knowing my search would next take me to the Mission, which now had a whole new meaning for me as a neighborhood. Surely there, in the borough of Latin American fusion might be space and interest enough on the shelves for bottles of this Tico salsa.

Nathan and I drove out to the Mission the next Saturday and meandered one of my favorite streets: 24th Street. En route to the Mission district’s El Chico Produce Market, we strolled hand in hand taking our time and taking in the sights. We passed windows to a panaderia with homemade Conchas beaming from inside the glass case. Taquerias dotted both sides of the street in stoic invitation of messy burritos and tortas. A hipster coffee house with next to no lights on inside winked its wary welcome. Yet on we walked with a bounce in our steps- sometimes there is such joy in just being together and experiencing the world around.

As we entered El Chico, I had a good feeling this was where we would find this Salsa Lizano. A panoply of Mexican cheeses in the case to the right, both sides of the aisle piled high with produce, we walked ever closer to the salsa aisle. And what a salsa aisle it was! We were like two kids doubling over with anticipation. Beck grabbed a few bottles of our mainstay in Salsa Verde and Casera. I pulled down a can of chipotle peppers in adobo, but try though I might, not a single bottle of anything that even vaguely resembled Lizano. I politely asked the checker if they carried it, thinking maybe I hadn’t looked carefully enough (the four times I roamed the aisle) and he replied that they used to, but no longer. After purchasing the groceries, we exited. I was disappointed, but having such fun with Nathan that it was to a minimum. I started concocting the semblance of a Plan B.

And then kitty corner across the street, I saw Casa Lucas. Just for grins I told Nathan I would try there, maybe fourth time was a charm. Something felt very different inside this mercadito. A woman was bottling crema in the back of the store. Another, flipping corn tortillas with bags of freshly steamed tortillas perched on her table. If nothing else, I found myself immensely intrigued. I turned the corner from one aisle to the next until I’d made it to the aisle where they kept their salsa and found myself in eager excitement at finding canned flor de calabaza (squash blossoms). This new discovery almost eclipsed what sat only a few short products away on the shelf. A knock-off of Salsa Lizano!

salsa alfaro

I asked the teller if they had the actual Lizano salsa instead of the Salsa Alfaro, to which she confirmed my suspicions that this was basically the same thing. To be sure, I checked the provenance of the salsa on the back of the bottle. Sure enough, it read, “Made in Costa Rica.” This wild goose chase had landed us in a day that stood out as the embodiment of pura vida, where we drank in the moments slowly savoring them.

Nathan and I walked down 24th for coffee and a Guinness doughnut from Dynamo Doughnuts before heading home and out of the drizzle that had begun to dampen the sidewalks and edifices.

So lesson learned: if you see bottles of sauce that you think you might need when you get home, you might want to suck it up and buy one. You’re a tourist after all. Or leave yourself to the whims of adventure and the fancy of the elusive ingredient- the hunt makes the meal taste that much better…


Jose Maria’s Gallo Pinto

I’ve tried to stay as true to his recipe’s translation as I can. Eating this makes me feel a little bit closer to living Pura Vida.

YIELD: 3 cups

  • ½ cup long grain white rice
  • 1 cup cold water
  • 1 medium Spanish or yellow onion, minced
  • 1 red jalapeno, seeded and minced
  • 1 ½ tablespoon safflower oil
  • 1 can black beans, drained
  • 2 tablespoons salsa Lizano or Alfaro
  1. Wash your rice three times as this does affect how the rice tastes once cooked. (If you’ve never washed rice before, pour water so it covers the rice. Then drain the water out without losing any of the grains of rice.)
  2. Add 1 cup of cold water and bring to boil.
  3. Cover and set to simmer for 20 minutes.
  4. When the rice is getting close to being finished, in a large pan, sauté the onion and jalapeno in the oil over high heat for five minutes.
  5. Add the black beans to the jalapenos and onion mixture along with 1 cup of your cooked rice and the Salsa Lizano (or Salsa Alfaro).
  6. Break up the rice and mix all the ingredients together. Simmer for 10 minutes and stir frequently.

chopped onion for gallo pinto recipered jalapeno for gallo pinto recipe

jalapeno and onion for gallo pinto recipe

Gallo Pinto Recipe

Costa Rican Menu Idea: Serve with a side Ensalada de Palmito (side salad of hearts of palm, tomatoes and avocado, topped with Lagarta Lodge dressing.)

gallo pinto recipe variation

Variation: Let’s say you don’t have any fresh jalapenos handy. Shop the Latin American aisle at your local store and pick up a can of pickled carrots and jalapenos. Drain the pickled carrots and jalapenos and dice them. Then substitute 2 tablespoons of them into the onion saute as it is almost finished with the edges charring slightly. Saute like this for 1-2 minutes and then follow the rest of the recipe as cited above.







It’s what someone might say of a couple replete with smooches and rings on the left hand. They’re casado. Married. Nathan and I said our vows in a rustic church filled to the hilt with family and friends from all over the globe. When planning the wedding, it was important that it feel like us. I jokingly said multiple times, if the wedding had a theme, it was “it takes a village.” We wanted it imbued with as many of our closest people doing what they do best: singing, playing piano, baking cake, hand-making caramels… the list could go on.

We wanted it to feel like us. Nothing too gussied up, but full of texture, language, color and flavor. Yes!

The morning started quietly. In the silence of a new apartment, I padded around barefoot, drinking it in, contemplating the weight of the day ahead, excited with a pep in my step. And then breakfast, photos and ceremony threaded together to find me at the pivotal moment.

Will I promise to love Nathan in sickness and in health? I will.
Will I promise to love him until death do us part? I will.

So much leading up to this moment of transition: casados.

We had the happy occasion to travel on a family holiday trip to Costa Rica right after Christmas. We rang out New Year’s Eve and walked into the New Year trolling our local beach with sand dusting our toes.

A few people at work asked upon my return, “How was your honeymoon?” This tickles me as I try to imagine inviting anyone other than Nathan to a honeymoon, but I’m polite, and say, “Fantastic!” Come to think of it, the woman seated next to us on the HOU – SJO leg of our trip asked if we were newlyweds. It must be something impermeable. Perhaps it’s the starry eyed look or our need to tuck our heads into each other’s neck nooks like ostriches. We are that couple.

See, we’ve decided to stay on honeymoon permanently. One of the best pieces of marital advice we’ve gotten is from his parents to “plan adventures with each other!”

Trust me, if they’d seen:

  • the commuter airplane that hoisted us cross-country to the coastal town of Nosara chug noseward up-
  • the canopy tour with its pully system and the directive to “Jump!” off the mountains-
  • us staring into and separating darkness from darkness, craning our ears and eyes for Olive Ridley Turtles come to shore to lay their eggs and then set off again-
  • the two hour pitch black trek from one beach to a mini mart “cross beaches” rather than “cross-town” in search of lotion, shampoo and a green vegetable-
  • hand-to-hand combat with the warrior locust to usher it back outside

We are living up to that bit of advice.

Food is always a bit of an adventure. (At least in my kitchen it is). If another culture doesn’t first enter through my ear, then it sure does through my stomach. The food section on my last blog was even called puerta de la panza (doorway to the stomach). Much to my delight, the Costa Rican’ national dish* happens to bear the name of my newly cemented status, casado. When in Costa Rica, you will see this as a menu item in most soda ticas, bars and restaurants.

I spoke with new friend Isabel to get a better idea of what a casado actually is.

casado consists of rice, black beans, salad and a choice of protein including chicken, fish or bistek en salsa, meat in sauce. Some casados include plantains and some don’t. Further inquiry (on wikipedia) revealed a possible reason for the name: businessmen said they wanted to be served like those who are married because the implication is married men eat this kind of meal in the home for lunch or dinner. I’m taking it with a grain of salt, though maybe that is its origin.

Casado- Rosi’s Soda Tica

While we were in Costa Rica, each of us had casados at different restaurants and each gives it their own flare. One evening in San Jose, my mom ordered the Casado and it came not only with plantains and the usual fare, but also included Fajita chicken and a picadillo of squash and carrots. Yummy. When we were in coastal Nosara, the casado at a local popular soda tica did not include plantains.

Casado- Soda Vanessa

I think the casado is aptly named. It brings a smattering of individual parts onto a plate and from the many ingredients comes a hearty dish with variety that can be personalized by venue or person. And it appeals to my personal sense of order: each ingredient has its own quadrant of plate. Beans over here. Rice to the right of the beans. Plantains nestled up against the rice. Chicken nudging the plantains. Salad in its own corner. Unlike, Nathan who prefers all things mixed together, I like to build the perfect bite. See, casado: something for everyone!

We returned from Costa Rica in early January and find ourselves hankering a bit for the simplicity and beauty of those environs, not to mention the warm temperatures and sun in place of the living room heater cranking for a short burst to cut through the old building cold. Then again, we are casado…

Heater turned off, oven turned on, we get started.




  • 4 chicken breasts
  • 1 cup milk
  • 1 tablespoon ground roasted coriander
  • 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/8 teaspoon freshly ground sea salt
  • Cracked black pepper, to taste
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 Mexican lime, quartered

Place chicken breasts in milk bath and refrigerate for an hour. Blend spices together in a small side bowl. Set aside. Once ready to cook chicken, place olive oil in pan over medium high heat. Remove one chicken breast and sprinkle both sides with spice blend. Cook on each side for 4 minutes or until cooked through.


  • 1 cup long grain white rice
  • 1 1/2 cup water

Rinse rice two times. Then add 1 1/2 cup water and bring to slow boil. Once boiling, set to simmer and cover for 20 minutes or until cooked.


  • 1 medium carrot, peeled and diced
  • 1 medium parsnip, peeled and diced
  • 1/4 cup peeled and diced celery root
  • 1 tablespoon olive oil
  • 1 tablespoon chicken stock
  • 1 teaspoon Oregano
  • Salt to taste

Steam the diced veggies for 5 minutes. Remove from water. Combine oregano, salt, chicken stock and oil. Add to pan and turn heat onto medium high. Sauté veggies for 2 minutes.


  • 1 can black beans, drained

Heat up black beans on stovetop until warm.


  • 2 plantains
  • 1 cup canola oil

Peel plantain and discard peel. Cut plantain into 1/4 inch chunks. Coat bottom of pan about 1 inch deep with oil. Heat oil over high heat but take care to not let it begin bubbling. Place plantain sections in oil and turn every 2-3 minutes or until golden brown.


  • ½ head of iceberg lettuce, shredded
  • ½ cup grape tomatoes, diced

This can be the final step for your casado to keep salad cool and ingredients in fridge until everything else has cooked.

Think of your plate by quadrant, when plating a casado: every ingredient gets its own home. Our casado will have a part of the plate dedicated to the beans, another to the rice, the plantains immediately next to the rice, then chicken and lastly salad.