Discovering the Unknown: Costa Rica’s Hidden Fruit Treasures
There’s something disarming about wandering into a local market in Costa Rica. The colors spill over like a painter gone wild—vivid reds, burning yellows, greens so deep they almost hum. And amid this lush canvas, nestled between familiar mangoes and pineapples, you’ll find curious shapes and names that sound like whispers from forgotten legends.
While most visitors delight in sipping fresh coconut water or devouring juicy papayas under the midday sun, few venture one bite further into Costa Rica’s lesser-known, yet deeply cherished, native fruits. These are the flavors that locals grew up with, passed down through laughter at breakfast tables and quiet jungle hikes with baskets in hand.
Let me take you by the hand, like a friend would, through some of these secret delights—and tell you where to taste them under the warm southern sky of Costa Rica.
Pejibaye – The Fruit with a Twist
If you see something that looks like a miniature pumpkin clustered on a palm tree, stop. You’ve just found pejibaye. Known in English as peach palm fruit, this bright-orange delicacy doesn’t scream sweetness. In fact, it behaves more like a starch than a fruit, which is what makes it so intriguing.
Boiled and served with a pat of butter or a dash of salt, pejibaye has a texture somewhere between chestnut and sweet potato. It’s hearty, earthy, and quietly satisfying. Often eaten for breakfast, it pairs surprisingly well with a strong cup of Costa Rican coffee.
Where to try it: Visit the farmers’ market in San Isidro de El General on a Thursday morning. There’s a vendor who sells freshly boiled pejibayes wrapped in banana leaves—you can’t miss the scent.
Guaba – The Ice Cream Bean
Let’s talk about nature’s most poetic candy: guaba. Not to be confused with guava (different fruit entirely!), this giant green pod hides fluffy white pulp that tastes hauntingly like vanilla ice cream. Open it up and you’ll see what I mean—it’s like unveiling clouds inside a jungle bean.
Kids adore it. Adults get nostalgic. And you, explorer of flavors, might find yourself grinning at the soft sweetness melting in your mouth. Best eaten fresh from the pod with fingers slightly sticky and laughter echoing in the background.
Where to try it: Along the road to Dominical, stop at one of the roadside fruit stalls near the bridge over the Rio Barú. During the late dry season (around March), guaba makes its discreet annual debut.
Zapote – Velvet Sunset in a Shell
Rich, dense, and temptingly sweet—zapote is the tropical equivalent of a dessert spooned from earth itself. The fruit’s flesh is a deep sunset-red, creamy like pumpkin mousse and laced with caramel and cherry tones.
It’s the kind of fruit that feels almost too indulgent to be natural. Like stumbling upon a hidden jungle pâtisserie. Just be prepared for the large seeds tucked like secrets in the center.
Where to try it: Head to the central market in San José and ask for zapote at Frutería Las Delicias—they often slice them open on the spot, offering a velvety scoop to the curious-hearted.
Manzana de Agua – The Watery Apple
Imagine biting into a fruit that looks like an apple, tastes faintly floral, and carries the hydrating power of a cucumber. That’s manzana de agua, or water apple. Light and delicate, it doesn’t aim for intensity. Instead, it cools the heat from within.
Crunchy on the outside, barely sweet, and often blushed pink, it’s a fruit for barefoot moments and lazy afternoon walks beneath mango trees. Take one with you to the beach and you’ll understand—the water apple is made for sun-drenched simplicity.
Where to try it: In the southern Nicoya Peninsula, around Montezuma, villagers sometimes sell baskets of manzana de agua near the square on slow market days. Just follow the laughter.
Nance – Tiny, Pungent and Peculiar
Now for a polarizing favorite: nance. These tiny yellow berries pack a punch—sharp, tangy, with a smell that people either cherish or flee from. But those who embrace the nance are rewarded with a flavor unlike any other.
Locals often ferment it into drinks or use it in desserts like nancite empanadas. You’ll find they have a character akin to fermented cheese but with fruity ambition, making them a riveting addition to any adventurous palate.
Where to try it: During early rainy season in the Guanacaste region, nance is everywhere. Try the chicha de nance in traditional sodas around Santa Cruz—it’s a folk remedy, some say, for everything from heartbreak to high blood pressure.
Jocote – A Tangy Little Tease
Small, round, and typically red or yellow, jocotes catch your eye like tropical marbles under the sun. Eaten firm and green with salt and lime, or left to ripen into soft sweetness, they transition from puckering tartness to mellow richness within days.
Children sell them in plastic bags along school routes, often calling out “¡jocotes maduros!” like carnival barkers tempting a curious crowd. Don’t resist. You’re about to taste a Costa Rican childhood in a single bite.
Where to try it: Look for school kids near Playa Uvita with tiny bags of jocotes for a few colones. Better yet, visit during the harvest months from November to January—you’ll see them everywhere like edible jewels.
Cas – The Sour Jewel
Squeezed into juices, tossed into smoothies, or simply enjoyed with a sprinkle of sugar, cas delivers a citrusy zing that dances on your tongue. Related to the guava but with a wild side, it’s perfect for those who like their flavors loud and unapologetic.
If you ever sip a chilled juice that makes your eyes pop and is marked on the menu as “fresco de cas,” you’ll know you’ve arrived. It’s refreshing, unpredictable, and mischievously addictive.
Where to try it: Almost any soda (local mini-restaurant) across the country will offer cas juice on hot afternoons. My personal favorite? A rustic eatery outside Sierpe, where the juice comes in a mason jar with ice and a sprig of mint.
Fruit is a Way of Living Here
In Costa Rica, fruit isn’t just a colorful side dish; it’s woven into the cultural rhythm of everyday life. From childhood memories to morning rituals, from idiomatic expressions to family recipes, each fruit tells stories far richer than just their flavor profiles.
So, next time you’re wandering through a sleepy village or idling at a roadside stand, take a leap. Taste the fruit with the strange name. Ask the vendor how they eat it. Let your curiosity guide you in this edible adventure. You might just find a new favorite hidden in plain sight.
Because in Costa Rica, magic often wears the soft skin of something ripe, unfamiliar, and waiting to be tasted.
