Pura Vida: Don Ramirez

Reading a thesis on differentiating lifestyles by SEC (wealthy, middle class, poverty-level) several years ago, I took a "quiz" about which category I was most comfortable in.  [Knowing which were the best places on which days for food free meals or services was something that I couldn't check on the poverty quiz, but knowing how to get a library card and file paperwork with insurance companies landed me in middle class lifestyle.]  The only question I remember from the Wealthy check list is having a favorite restaurant in another country.  

Well, we're extraordinarily wealthy, because Dwayne and I "discovered" Miguel's Don Ramirez on our third night in Punta Islita.

First, we spent one day not knowing there was a tiny little town within walking distance of the hotel.  Then we spent another day thinking that there was only one restaurant in that little town (because I was pretty sure that the girls and I had walked the entire town by turning left at the only corner in town and walking up to the church).  But poolside gossip said that if you went past the grocery store, and up that street (that was a street?!?!), and kept going long past where you think you'd ever find a restaurant, you would come to the best little place at the end of the world.

There we found Miguel, who had converted part of his house into a bar and restaurant.

The Heavens sang.  And we ate there every night he was open until we left, so 3 out of the 4 days until our Tuesday morning departure.

First, it cannot be overstated the pleasure of eating outside (because no CR restaurant wastes space with indoor seating) after a screamingly hot day in a warm night with bright, bright stars above.  The kids aren't confined to hard tables for a two hour meal, and Piper quickly found a friend.

Dwayne found a cocktail (or two!) he liked, and I had the best sangria of my life.  And in the best fashion of lemoncello in Italy, Miguel always brought out a shot of his own making at the end of the evening, after the bill had been settled. Cheers!

Miguel's enthusiasm for food and people was contagious, and even though we knew we were going to start with one of each of his 6 small plates (unique each night), we still loved to hear him describe them.  On Sunday, his brother was there to make his lovely, lovely chicken, named after the sibling himself.  We toasted him through the open window to the stove top.

It was foodie, local, fresh, delicious, unique, thoughtfully and aesthetically prepared, and less expensive than the stuffy meal at the hotel restaurant.  It's actually a spot I can imagine taking everyone I love to spend time with there and making the experience twice as wonderful.  

And since Miguel and his wife had 3 of their own children, he straight up asked Wesley if he wanted a bowl of noodles instead of anything on the menu.  Yep, even the kids adored this place!

While I just assume we won't make it back to Costa Rica because there are so many other places to see, this little spot would be a reason to tempt me to revisit this little part of Central America.