In Praise of Rice and Beans

There are no culinary tours to Costa Rica, and for good reason. So far as I can tell, this small tropical country has nothing special to offer in the way of gustatory delights. Let’s face it, you can’t eat phenomenal biodiversity, mist-shrouded volcanoes, cloud forests, rain forests, pristine beaches complete with warm water, spectacular surfing, and leatherback turtles, a thoroughly nonmilitarized society (when flocks of pelicans conduct their regular flybys, we note that the Costa Rican air force is out on maneuvers), a long and proud history of social democracy, and the world’s happiest people whose national motto is somewhere between “tranquilo” and “pura vida.” But I digress. Now that Frank Bruni is writing (admirably!) about politics for The New York Times, I sense an opening and so: Today I’m writing about food.

Not fancy food, mind you, but beans and rice.

What I’ve noticed, aside from the fact that Tico food is notably boring, is that there are few obese people here, just as, despite the fact that Costa Rica is a relatively poor country, there also appears to be essentially no hunger or malnutrition. Basic food here is basic indeed. As in much of Latin America, a typical day’s diet consists of beans and rice (plus some corn tortillas). Repeat as needed, not uncommonly three times per day. Add the vitamin D that is synthesized inevitably as a result of spending time outdoors, plus some vitamin C (from the abundant pineapples, lemons, mangoes, papayas, and so forth), and the average Tico consumes a highly nutritious, remarkably inexpensive diet, containing all the essential amino acids and vitamins.

Years ago, I noticed a similar pattern in Nepal, another developing or “third world” country characterized by low incomes yet paradoxically good nutrition. The national Nepali meal is “dal bhat,” consisting of rice, lentils (often both black and yellow), and some sort of green or orange curried vegetable, depending on local agricultural preferences. (Very rarely, a bit of chicken is added.) Nepalis, like Ticos, don’t value culinary diversity; dal bhat is often consumed three times per day, but with great enthusiasm.

I’m not one to idealize other cultures simply because they’re “other.” But I’m also open to learning from others, specifically because they are other. And I can’t help noting that it’s unfortunate—maybe even tragic—that the United States, for example, doesn’t have an equivalent of rice and beans or dal bhat: a basic, healthy, inexpensive, easy-to-prepare default meal. Instead, we have “Happy Meals” that are nutritionally miserable, or variants on Coca Cola, Doritos, and cheeseburgers: high in salt, fat, sugar and, ironically, cost as well.

Seems to me that a chef, celebrity or otherwise, with a soupςon of originality plus a dash of social conscience and a generous helping of comestible insight could do this overweight, undernourished country of ours a lot of good.