A short, very personal list of where we go to eat in Santa Teresa. Not exhaustive — that wouldn't help anyone — but tested. The places we send our guests to, and where we end up ourselves on a Tuesday night when nobody's cooking at home.
Santa Teresa eats well. Better than most surf towns its size. There's an Italian community that's been here for twenty years, an Argentine wave that arrived during the pandemic, a generation of young Costa Rican chefs running farm-to-table places, and the small Friday market in Mal Pais where everyone meets and gossips. Below — what we recommend, organized by mood.
Breakfast — coffee, açaí, slow morning
Habaneros — the place. Open early, serves the best espresso in town, açaí bowls heaped with fruit, and a banana bread that disappears by 10 AM. You'll spot half the surf community here every morning. Cash or card, no fuss.
The Bakery — a tiny pastry-and-coffee operation that opens around 7 AM. French croissants made by a French baker who decided the move was worth it. Get there early — by 9 AM there's a line.
Burger Rancho — yes, burgers, but they also do a killer breakfast burrito and the only place in town that serves a properly poached egg on toast.
Lunch — beach, casual, fast
Banana Beach — a Santa Teresa institution. Right on the sand, plastic chairs, ceviche that arrives in five minutes, ice-cold beers, and the best fish tacos for miles. Don't dress up. Get sand in your toes.
Bistro Las Manchas — slightly elevated above the road, palm shade, slow service in the best way. Salads with pumpkin, beets, halloumi. Wraps. Good wine list at lunch (which is rare). Bring a book.
El Sabor Tico — when you want the local thing. Casado with rice, beans, plantain, salad, and your choice of fish, chicken or pork. About $8. The patrona makes everything herself and there's nothing fancy about it. Which is exactly why we go.
Dinner — proper meals
Hidden Garden — the chef-y one. Italian-Costa Rican fusion, fresh pasta, candlelit garden setting. Reserve. The tuna tartare with passionfruit is probably the dish in town we recommend the most.
Koji's — Nikkei (Japanese-Peruvian) cuisine that has no business being this good in a beach town. The miso black cod is genuinely world-class. About $50/person, which feels expensive in Santa Teresa and bargain by international standards.
Drift — opened in 2024, run by an Argentine couple. Seasonal menu, big sharing plates, natural wines. Loud, bright, fun. Best for groups of four to six.
El Greco — Greek tavern run by an actual Greek. Octopus, moussaka, slow-cooked lamb, sweet wine. The kind of place where dinner stretches to three hours and you don't notice.
Sunset — drinks, small plates, watching the sky
Rocamar Beach Club — the most photographed sunset bar on this coast. Cocktails are decent (caipirinha is the safe bet), but you're really here for the view. Get there at 5:15 PM. The sun drops at 5:50.
Lola's — slightly south, slightly less polished, more local. Ceviche, beers, occasional live music. Bring cash.
The Friday market
Every Friday morning in Mal Pais, the small market sets up behind the Lola's parking lot. Local farmers, organic vegetables, fresh fish, homemade pasta, sourdough bread, kombucha. It's where the whole town runs into itself. Even if you don't need anything, go for an hour. It's the social anchor of the week.
If you can only do three
Honestly? Banana Beach for lunch on your first day, Hidden Garden for one nice dinner, The Bakery every morning. That's the foundation. Everything else is bonus.
If you're staying in one of our houses — Casa Noa, Les Roches, or Nouli — we can book any of these for you, arrange a private chef at the villa, or send you our list of newest openings (the scene moves fast — by next season half this article will need updating).
