The Taste of the Land

The Taste of the Land

There are moments when you taste something and realize you’ve forgotten what food is supposed to taste like.

That’s what happened to me in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica.

It wasn’t a fancy restaurant. It wasn’t some curated wellness experience. It was simply fruit—cut fresh, bright in color, still carrying the warmth of the sun that grew it.

Pineapple. Mango. Papaya. Banana.

The kind of fruit that reminds you that food is supposed to come from the earth, not from a package.

Food that feels alive

One of the things that struck me the most in Puerto Viejo was how alive the food feels.

The fruit is sweeter.

The vegetables are richer in flavor.

Even a simple smoothie feels like nourishment in its most honest form.

Part of that is because so much of it is grown nearby. The fruit isn’t traveling thousands of miles to reach you. It hasn’t been engineered to survive weeks in transit. It’s grown, harvested, and eaten in rhythm with the land.

You can taste the difference immediately.

And your body can feel it too.

A different relationship with food

In many places in the United States, food is rushed.

We eat quickly. We eat while working. We eat food that has been processed, preserved, and transported long distances.

In Puerto Viejo, food feels slower and more intentional.

A plate of fruit in the morning feels like a ritual.

Fresh coconut water feels like medicine.

A smoothie made with mango, banana, and pineapple tastes like something your body has been waiting for.

It’s not just delicious—it feels restorative.

Health that begins with the land

For me, part of this journey toward Puerto Viejo is also about returning to a healthier rhythm of living.

The freshness of the food there reminds me that taking care of our bodies doesn’t have to be complicated.

Sometimes it starts with simple things:

Fresh fruit in the morning.

Food that hasn’t been overly processed.

Ingredients grown close to where they’re eaten.

When I’m there, I notice that my body feels lighter, more energized, more aligned with the pace of the place itself.

It’s a reminder that health is not just about discipline—it’s about environment.

Why it matters to me

As I continue imagining what Ndaho might become one day—a cultural and creative space rooted in community—I think a lot about the role of food.

Food connects us to land.

Food connects us to culture.

Food connects us to each other.

Puerto Viejo already lives that truth every day.

Part of the dream is making sure that when people gather in that future space, they experience that same connection—food that is fresh, nourishing, and reflective of the land around it.

Because when food is grown with care and shared with intention, it feeds more than the body.

It feeds the spirit too.

A taste of what’s possible

Every time I leave Puerto Viejo, I carry something with me.

Not just the memory of the sea, or the music in the streets, or the warmth of the people.

I carry the memory of the fruit.

The sweetness of mango that tastes like sunshine.

The freshness of pineapple that feels almost electric.

The simple reminder that food can still be pure.

And every time I return home, I find myself thinking:

More people deserve to experience food this way.

Food that comes from the land.

Food that nourishes the body.

Food that reminds us to slow down and taste life again.

For now, it’s something I carry in memory.

But it’s also one more reason that Puerto Viejo keeps calling me back.

-Marlee