Puerto Rico provided the unexpected deep dive into my West African roots that I didn’t know I needed. I thought I was going to the Caribbean island to try Mutuo, The Sheraton Puerto Rico Resort & Casino’s brand-new Nikkei restaurant, which blends Japanese and Peruvian flavors. Little did I know how much more was in store for me with Puerto Rican food.
As someone who typically leans toward fine dining, I was intrigued by the fusion menu at Mutuo. With dishes that marry bold Nikkei flavors, like tiradito made with smoky octopus and citrus, or ceviche crafted from just-caught local red snapper, the restaurant delivered the elevated experience I was expecting. The playful fusion of ingredients like Parmesan and coconut reminded me that Puerto Rico is a crossroads of global influence.
Mútuo delivered on the flavors I love to seek out when I travel, but what I didn’t expect was how moved I’d be by a very different kind of meal. It unfolded during a food excursion with SPOON Food Tours through Old San Juan, and stayed with me long after.
A Stroll Through San Juan: History, Culture, and Color
The next morning, my group and I boarded a complimentary shuttle from the Sheraton Puerto Rico Resort & Casino to Plaza Colón in Old San Juan. As we wandered through the sun-warmed, cobblestone streets, the vibrant colors of colonial buildings framed lively scenes of daily life. We caught glimpses of La Perla, the seaside neighborhood once infamous but forever immortalized in the “Despacito” music video. Today, its colorful walls and rhythmic energy tell a story of transformation that embodies grit, pride, and cultural revival.
We were on our way to meet Lorna, our fiery, smart, and quick-witted tour guide. Upon greeting us, she explained that SPOON only partners with independent, locally-owned restaurants and bars. The company works with more than 40, many of which are family-run. On our tour, we’d explore three restaurants.
Old San Juan sits on a slope, and our tour began at the top, at Plaza del Quinto Centenario. We waited by a 40-foot totem known as El Tótem Telúrico. To some, it marks the 500th anniversary of Columbus’ arrival, but as we learned from Lorna, it’s also a tribute to the Indigenous Taíno people who suffered during the Spanish conquest. The pole, made of black granite and ceramic pieces replicating Taíno artifacts, stands as a more grounded acknowledgment of history.
Puerto Rican Coffee with a Side of Resistance
Our first stop: Café Don Ruiz, a specialty coffee shop tucked inside the Museum of the Americas, the former Spanish military barracks. Here, we enjoyed pan de Mallorca. It’s a sweet, sugar-topped bread sometimes filled with ham and cheese and paired with a strong cafecito.
That Mallorca bread was brought to Puerto Rico by the Spanish. And Puerto Rican cuisine, Lorna told us, is a fusion of Taíno, Spanish, and African influences. Naturally, my ears perked up. As someone born in Monrovia, Liberia, and raised in Providence, Rhode Island, a city with deep Puerto Rican ties, I felt the threads begin to intertwine.
A Liberian Breakfast
Biting into the Mallorca instantly reminded me of kala, the fried, golden doughnuts we often eat for breakfast as Liberians. Dusted with sugar and paired with hot coffee, they’re a staple of morning gatherings. Different textures, different techniques, but the same comforting start to the day.
As for the cafecito, Lorna joked, “It’s the first thing a Puerto Rican will offer you,” sharing how even babies used to get a taste of coffee in their bottles. She reminded us that while coffee originated in Ethiopia, it made its way to Puerto Rico during colonization.
Puerto Rico was once a major coffee exporter, particularly in the 19th century, when it was among the world’s top producers. But after decades of economic shifts, industrialization, and more recently, natural disasters like Hurricane Maria, the island’s coffee industry has largely turned inward, focusing more on local production and specialty markets. “During Maria, borders closed,” Lorna explained. “Nothing was coming in, and people learned that they had to grow their own food.”
A Liberian Backstory
Hearing that, I couldn’t help but think of Liberia’s own coffee story.
Back home, Liberica coffee, named for my homeland and native to Liberia and West Africa, is prized for its hardiness and bold, fruity flavor, thriving along the country’s hot, equatorial Atlantic coast. In the late 19th century, Liberia was reportedly producing thousands of tons of coffee annually. When a global coffee rust outbreak devastated Arabica crops in the 1890s, the resilient Liberica plants survived and spread across the world. There’s a shared lesson here: in both Puerto Rico and Liberia, coffee isn’t just a crop; it’s a symbol of resilience, adaptation, and community that’s strong enough to endure and thrive through hardship.
That morning, we drank medium-dark roast, handpicked, single-origin coffee grown by the Ruiz family, who owned Café Don Ruiz. Strength in every sip.
A Fusion of Flavors: Where African, Spanish, and Taíno Traditions Meet
From there, we wandered through cobbled streets, Lorna mixing history with local tips on where to party (Calle San Sebastián) and where to find the best empanadas (Alhambra Bar), until we arrived at Deaverdura. The plates that landed in front of us were as soulful as any Sunday table back home: slow-roasted pernil, spiced chicken sausage, fragrant rice and creamy beans, bright cilantro sauce, and not one but two kinds of plantains.
We were spoiled with crispy tostones and sweet, sticky maduros. The first bite of those maduros hit a deep nostalgic nerve. In my family, plantains weren’t just a side; they were an anchor. I could see my mother frying them golden for a midday snack or boiling them to serve with saltfish gravy for breakfast. The familiar sweetness cut through the richness of the meal, a taste memory that instantly transported me.
Rice: The West African Connection
Lorna shared that beans were a Taíno staple, and that although rice was introduced by the Spanish, it didn’t grow on the island until 1516. “West Africans were the only ones who knew how to cultivate rice in this climate,” she said. The transatlantic slave trade brought Africans to the island, along with plantains and cooking techniques that still shape Puerto Rican cuisine today.
Then there were the drinks. Cocktails laced with Palo Viejo rum and juices of tamarind, pineapple, and guanábana (soursop). For me, the flavors echoed the fermented sweetness of Liberian palm wine, another staple of gatherings back home. In Liberia, palm wine is more than a drink; it’s a symbol of community, of welcome, of celebration. As I sipped my cocktail at Deaverdura, surrounded by laughter and stories, the connection was undeniable. Across oceans and generations, the essence of West African hospitality lived here too, in the glass and on the plate.
© Charlie Cooper
Authentic Mofongo
At our next stop, Juanes Restaurante, I learned that deep-frying and mashing plantains came from African traditions, too. “West Africans brought plantains and mortars to mash them,” Lorna explained. It reminded me of my parents’ tradition of frying fish and plantains on the weekends, a meal that still comforts me today.
That method is the basis of mofongo, one of Puerto Rico’s signature dishes. Lorna said the name even stems from the African Angolan Kikongo term mfwenge-mfwenge, meaning “a lot of nothing.” Before mofongo, there was fufu, West Africa’s staple of pounded yams. Mofongo, made from mashed plantains, is like fufu’s distant cousin.
Traditionally, mofongo is served with a choice of sauces, sometimes a light chicken broth or even a tomato-based stew with chicken, pork, or shrimp in it, much like the version that arrived at our table at Juanes. It reminded me of how fufu is served in West Africa, always accompanied by a deeply flavored pepper soup or stew, rich with spices and layered with heat. In both cases, the starch, whether plantain or yam, is the perfect foundation, meant to soak up bold flavors and bring everything together in one satisfying bite. The echoes between these dishes, separated by an ocean but united by culinary instinct, were impossible to ignore.
At Juanes, we tried bifongo. It’s a sweeter version of mofongo, made with both green and ripe plantains, topped with tender chicken in a rich tomato-based stew. It was my first time trying bifongo, but definitely not my last.
© Charlie Cooper
A Deeper Story
This trip, from the refined flavors at Mutuo to the soulful stories behind every bite on the food tour, reminded me that Puerto Rico’s culinary scene tells a deeper story: one of migration, survival, resilience, and cultural fusion. It helped me see just how deeply West African traditions are embedded in Puerto Rican food. From the rich dishes to the cultivation techniques brought across oceans, every bite felt like a bridge between my past and my present.
I loved that a food tour, thousands of miles from Liberia, deepened my pride in my West African roots and reminded me that those roots are still alive and well in kitchens and communities around the world, centuries later.
If You Go
Fly into Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport (SJU). It’s perfectly situated for exploring San Juan’s top attractions.
I stayed minutes away at the Sheraton Puerto Rico Resort & Casino for a family-friendly, yet elevated getaway with easy access to Distrito T-Mobile, the Caribbean’s largest entertainment district, and a hotspot for some of the best local bites.
To savor the flavors and stories of Old San Juan, the SPOON food tour is a must.
You might also enjoy:
- Aqilmina Coffee in El Salvador: A Sensory Coffee Lab
- Dalida: Mediterranean Magic in San Francisco’s Presidio
Read more from Charlie Cooper on her website, Trips and Dips.
