WUFT | News and public media for north central Florida
Roots of resilience
By Alex Land
April 15, 2025 at 12:00 PM EDT
How tourism helped María Luz Jiménez turn a fragile crop into a sustainable livelihood.
https://youtu.be/di2Sjc37a4A
SARAPIQUI, COSTA RICA — In the lush, green countryside of Sarapiquí in north-central Costa Rica, María Luz Jiménez stands out among the nation’s farmers.
Jiménez grows the local delicacy palmito, known in English as heart of palm – or swamp cabbage in parts of Florida. Women own only about 15% of all the farms and only about 8% of the agricultural land held by individuals in Costa Rica, according to the World Bank and Costa Rican Ministry of Environment and Energy. When they do, they often lean into sustainable practices, involve family and offer significant support to others in their communities.
“We’re a farming family,” Jiménez said. “We’ve been here for 40 years.”
The roads of Sarapiquí wind through vast stretches of farmland, dense forests and the occasional roadside stand selling fresh produce. Jiménez’s home and business front a jungly palm forest where she harvests the specialty straight from the source. Heart of palm is prized in Costa Rican cuisine, used in everything from salads to savory dishes. While many farmers supply heart of palm to markets and carts, Jiménez's approach is unique: she welcomes visitors onto her farm, offering an immersive experience that bridges agriculture and tourism.
Jiménez’s story shows what’s possible when local people are front and center in sustainable tourism – and why they should be. At a time when some Costa Ricans feel that ecotourism too often favors foreign investors over native Ticos, Jiménez and her palms have firmly rooted their future in local soil.
In her hands, María Luz Jiménez displays the “candle,” the pale, edible heart hidden deep within the palm. (Kimberly Blum/WUFT News) (6000x4000, AR: 1.5)
María’s story
Taking care of land has always been in María’s blood.
“I was born in the countryside in Guanacaste. I worked in the fields boiling rice, beans, corn, and all that.”
At just 13, she moved in with her uncles to work on their banana plantations. The work was grueling, she said, but taught her invaluable skills that would later help her build her own farm.
At 17, Jiménez and her husband were expecting their eldest daughter, Kennia. The pair obtained land through the Institute of Agrarian Development, a Costa Rican land-reform initiative aimed at promoting family farms. The now-disbanded government program gave agricultural families, including María's, a vital foundation.
However, María's journey became increasingly difficult. Abandoned by her husband, María was left to raise her children alone. To support her family, she sold heart of palm on the side of the road, pushing a wheelbarrow filled with her harvest.
To sustain herself and her daughters, María lived in a makeshift home crafted from sticks and a black tarp, a simple shelter against the harsh realities of her new life.
“That's what I had,” she said. “Plastic with sticks.”
As María’s heart of palm farm began to take shape, she started to think beyond just selling her harvest. Instead of relying solely on roadside sales, she considered how she could make her farm stand out. The idea was simple yet ambitious: to invite visitors onto the land, offering tours and serving meals in her own restaurant made from the very palms she grew. It was a big step, one that would take time and effort, but María was determined to make it happen.
Her daughter, Kennia María Jiménez, recalled that while her mother worked tirelessly to support the family, the early days of starting the business were “super difficult.”
“Our first group of customers was 15 people. Imagine that,” Kennia Jiménez said. “That was a record for us, quite a feat, serving 15 people.”
But little by little, the farm began to grow as a new group of customers started to arrive.
The power of tourism
The turning point came when tourists began visiting her farm.
“God blessed me by bringing many tourists,” María Jiménez said. ”Since then, our lives have completely changed.”
Her daughter said that nature-based tourism transformed her family’s way of life.
“We literally make a living off tourism,” Kennia Jiménez said. “We need as many tourists as we can get to sustain our business because the locals hardly come.”
The demand for fresh, organic heart of palm expanded beyond just roadside sales. With the added income from tourism, María Jiménez was able to build a restaurant, improve her home, and expand her business beyond what she had ever imagined.
She embraced the opportunity to teach tourists about the heart of palm industry and sustainable agriculture; she grows her palms without chemicals. She began offering tours to show visitors firsthand how the delicate shoots are extracted, processed and prepared for consumption.
“We show them everything from how we cut the palm to how we cook it,” she said. “It’s not just about eating; it’s about understanding where your food comes from.”
María Luz Jiménez demonstrates how the edible part of the palm is extracted, gliding the machete along the stalk like an extension of her arm. (Kimberly Blum/WUFT News) (6000x4000, AR: 1.5)
María said it was tourism that sent her daughters to school. Kennia, now an integral part of the business, studied to be a tour guide and manages much of the farm’s operations, from welcoming visitors to innovating new heart of palm recipes.
Kennia said she loves watching her mother interact with tourists and enjoy the life she has worked so hard to build.
"When they come, it's always a new experience to spend time with my mother. Watching how all the dishes they're going to eat are prepared, and they always like them. So they always leave very grateful.”
Hosting tourists, María Jiménez said, is quite beautiful for her.
“It always fills me with so much satisfaction,” she said. “I love it.”
Challenges along the way
After her husband had been absent for years, he returned to claim ownership of her land. María Jiménez went through considerable legal battles and was left with only a portion of the holdings.
“Ten years after he left, we had to divide the land,” she explains. “So I ended up with two hectares, and he ended up with five.”
This visualization shows how Jiménez’s land holdings changed after the legal battles with her husband. (Alex Land/WUFT News) (3406x1068, AR: 3.189138576779026)
The financial strain was significant.
“With just one hectare of palmetto, no one can survive,” she said. “Not even with five hectares.”
With less land to farm, she focused on hosting visitors for tours–and meals at her and her daughter’s restaurant overlooking the palm jungle. Visitors, who sit at open-air tables watching hummingbirds feed on bright tropical flowers, provided a crucial source of income, she said, allowing her to invest in her farm and expand her operations.
Farming without harm
Conventional heart of palm harvesting was far from sustainable. Historically, the heart was chopped out of single-stalked palms in the wild – popularly known as juçara palms in the jungles of Costa Rica and sabal palms in the backwoods of Florida – which resulted in the death of the palm.
Farmed palms helped stop the wild harvest, but the trees were often grown with chemical fertilizers and pesticides. Despite its green reputation, Costa Rica ranks among the leading countries in the world for pesticide use, according to a 2022 United Nations Development Program study.
While most countries in the study reported average pesticide use below 2 kilograms of active ingredients per hectare of agricultural land, Costa Rica stood out with usage exceeding 9 kilograms per hectare.
Many chemicals banned in the European Union, such as chlorpyrifos, are still used in Costa Rica, leading to environmental concerns. Chlorpyrifos, an insecticide, has been banned in the EU due to its harmful effects on human health, particularly in causing developmental issues in children and harming local ecosystems. It was banned in the U.S. for a time, though growers sued to have the ban lifted.
While large-scale plantations often rely on pesticides to maintain high yields, smaller farmers like Jiménez can take a different approach.
The appetizer at Jiménez’s restaurant features a fresh ceviche made with heart of palm, a local delicacy that offers a unique twist on a classic dish. (Kat Tran/WUFT News) (1536x2048, AR: 0.75)
Jiménez refuses to use chemical pesticides on her palms. She relies on organic farming methods, creating her own compost from kitchen waste and using natural fertilizers. Her commitment to sustainability makes her farm a safer and healthier place for both workers and visitors.
Fruits of her labor
The heart of palm at the Jiménez family’s restaurant isn’t just an ingredient – it tells the story of hard work. The delicacy at the heart of the palm is also at the heart of the restaurant’s menu.
“We're going to give them a main course: hearts of palm lasagna, which is a gratin baked with cheese and chicken,” Kennia said. “Everything made here is natural. Everything will be used from right here.”
One of the restaurant’s star items is the pejibaye, the fruit of the peach palms Jiménez grows. The Costa Rican staple is boiled for over an hour and often served with mayonnaise and coffee. The seeds from the pejibaye are then used to grow new palm trees, ensuring a sustainable cycle.
María Luz Jiménez holds a pejibaye before it's cooked, showcasing the fruit in its raw, vibrant form. (Kat Tran/WUFT News) (6000x4000, AR: 1.5)
The Florida connection
The heart of palm has deep roots beyond Costa Rica. In rural Florida, it is known as swamp cabbage, as much a delicacy in Southern cuisine as it is in South and Central America.
David Fox, an urban forestry specialist, explains that unlike in Costa Rica, palm harvesting in Florida is often done on a smaller scale, with individuals cutting down trees for personal meals rather than large-scale farming.
“Florida even hosts an annual Swamp Cabbage Festival in LaBelle, celebrating this regional delicacy,” he said.
However, the industry faces threats such as Lethal Bronzing Disease, a deadly bacterial infection that affects several palm species, including the native sabal palm, Florida’s state tree. The disease disrupts the tree’s ability to transport nutrients, ultimately leading to its death. Once a tree is infected, there is no cure, and removal is the only way to prevent further spread.
Lethal Bronzing Disease has become a growing concern among conservationists and farmers alike. The rapid spread of the disease has raised questions about the long-term sustainability of Florida’s palm resources and the future availability of swamp cabbage as a traditional food source.
A legacy of growth
María Jiménez’s story is a powerful example of what support for small-scale farming can achieve. From the early days of pushing a wheelbarrow down the highway to building a successful ecotourism business, she’s created a lasting legacy that goes beyond the cultivation of palms.
“My mother is a very humble woman, a hard worker, and she always got ahead,” Kennia Jiménez said. “She is a very, very virtuous woman.”
María Jiménez’s success highlights the importance of placing local people at the heart of sustainable tourism. She has firmly rooted her future––and her farm––in the local soil, proving that sustainable tourism can thrive when led by those who know the land best.
SARAPIQUI, COSTA RICA — In the lush, green countryside of Sarapiquí in north-central Costa Rica, María Luz Jiménez stands out among the nation’s farmers.
Jiménez grows the local delicacy palmito, known in English as heart of palm – or swamp cabbage in parts of Florida. Women own only about 15% of all the farms and only about 8% of the agricultural land held by individuals in Costa Rica, according to the World Bank and Costa Rican Ministry of Environment and Energy. When they do, they often lean into sustainable practices, involve family and offer significant support to others in their communities.
“We’re a farming family,” Jiménez said. “We’ve been here for 40 years.”
The roads of Sarapiquí wind through vast stretches of farmland, dense forests and the occasional roadside stand selling fresh produce. Jiménez’s home and business front a jungly palm forest where she harvests the specialty straight from the source. Heart of palm is prized in Costa Rican cuisine, used in everything from salads to savory dishes. While many farmers supply heart of palm to markets and carts, Jiménez's approach is unique: she welcomes visitors onto her farm, offering an immersive experience that bridges agriculture and tourism.
Jiménez’s story shows what’s possible when local people are front and center in sustainable tourism – and why they should be. At a time when some Costa Ricans feel that ecotourism too often favors foreign investors over native Ticos, Jiménez and her palms have firmly rooted their future in local soil.
In her hands, María Luz Jiménez displays the “candle,” the pale, edible heart hidden deep within the palm. (Kimberly Blum/WUFT News) (6000x4000, AR: 1.5)
María’s story
Taking care of land has always been in María’s blood.
“I was born in the countryside in Guanacaste. I worked in the fields boiling rice, beans, corn, and all that.”
At just 13, she moved in with her uncles to work on their banana plantations. The work was grueling, she said, but taught her invaluable skills that would later help her build her own farm.
At 17, Jiménez and her husband were expecting their eldest daughter, Kennia. The pair obtained land through the Institute of Agrarian Development, a Costa Rican land-reform initiative aimed at promoting family farms. The now-disbanded government program gave agricultural families, including María's, a vital foundation.
However, María's journey became increasingly difficult. Abandoned by her husband, María was left to raise her children alone. To support her family, she sold heart of palm on the side of the road, pushing a wheelbarrow filled with her harvest.
To sustain herself and her daughters, María lived in a makeshift home crafted from sticks and a black tarp, a simple shelter against the harsh realities of her new life.
“That's what I had,” she said. “Plastic with sticks.”
As María’s heart of palm farm began to take shape, she started to think beyond just selling her harvest. Instead of relying solely on roadside sales, she considered how she could make her farm stand out. The idea was simple yet ambitious: to invite visitors onto the land, offering tours and serving meals in her own restaurant made from the very palms she grew. It was a big step, one that would take time and effort, but María was determined to make it happen.
Her daughter, Kennia María Jiménez, recalled that while her mother worked tirelessly to support the family, the early days of starting the business were “super difficult.”
“Our first group of customers was 15 people. Imagine that,” Kennia Jiménez said. “That was a record for us, quite a feat, serving 15 people.”
But little by little, the farm began to grow as a new group of customers started to arrive.
The power of tourism
The turning point came when tourists began visiting her farm.
“God blessed me by bringing many tourists,” María Jiménez said. ”Since then, our lives have completely changed.”
Her daughter said that nature-based tourism transformed her family’s way of life.
“We literally make a living off tourism,” Kennia Jiménez said. “We need as many tourists as we can get to sustain our business because the locals hardly come.”
The demand for fresh, organic heart of palm expanded beyond just roadside sales. With the added income from tourism, María Jiménez was able to build a restaurant, improve her home, and expand her business beyond what she had ever imagined.
She embraced the opportunity to teach tourists about the heart of palm industry and sustainable agriculture; she grows her palms without chemicals. She began offering tours to show visitors firsthand how the delicate shoots are extracted, processed and prepared for consumption.
“We show them everything from how we cut the palm to how we cook it,” she said. “It’s not just about eating; it’s about understanding where your food comes from.”
María Luz Jiménez demonstrates how the edible part of the palm is extracted, gliding the machete along the stalk like an extension of her arm. (Kimberly Blum/WUFT News) (6000x4000, AR: 1.5)
María said it was tourism that sent her daughters to school. Kennia, now an integral part of the business, studied to be a tour guide and manages much of the farm’s operations, from welcoming visitors to innovating new heart of palm recipes.
Kennia said she loves watching her mother interact with tourists and enjoy the life she has worked so hard to build.
"When they come, it's always a new experience to spend time with my mother. Watching how all the dishes they're going to eat are prepared, and they always like them. So they always leave very grateful.”
Hosting tourists, María Jiménez said, is quite beautiful for her.
“It always fills me with so much satisfaction,” she said. “I love it.”
Challenges along the way
After her husband had been absent for years, he returned to claim ownership of her land. María Jiménez went through considerable legal battles and was left with only a portion of the holdings.
“Ten years after he left, we had to divide the land,” she explains. “So I ended up with two hectares, and he ended up with five.”
This visualization shows how Jiménez’s land holdings changed after the legal battles with her husband. (Alex Land/WUFT News) (3406x1068, AR: 3.189138576779026)
The financial strain was significant.
“With just one hectare of palmetto, no one can survive,” she said. “Not even with five hectares.”
With less land to farm, she focused on hosting visitors for tours–and meals at her and her daughter’s restaurant overlooking the palm jungle. Visitors, who sit at open-air tables watching hummingbirds feed on bright tropical flowers, provided a crucial source of income, she said, allowing her to invest in her farm and expand her operations.
Farming without harm
Conventional heart of palm harvesting was far from sustainable. Historically, the heart was chopped out of single-stalked palms in the wild – popularly known as juçara palms in the jungles of Costa Rica and sabal palms in the backwoods of Florida – which resulted in the death of the palm.
Farmed palms helped stop the wild harvest, but the trees were often grown with chemical fertilizers and pesticides. Despite its green reputation, Costa Rica ranks among the leading countries in the world for pesticide use, according to a 2022 United Nations Development Program study.
While most countries in the study reported average pesticide use below 2 kilograms of active ingredients per hectare of agricultural land, Costa Rica stood out with usage exceeding 9 kilograms per hectare.
Many chemicals banned in the European Union, such as chlorpyrifos, are still used in Costa Rica, leading to environmental concerns. Chlorpyrifos, an insecticide, has been banned in the EU due to its harmful effects on human health, particularly in causing developmental issues in children and harming local ecosystems. It was banned in the U.S. for a time, though growers sued to have the ban lifted.
While large-scale plantations often rely on pesticides to maintain high yields, smaller farmers like Jiménez can take a different approach.
The appetizer at Jiménez’s restaurant features a fresh ceviche made with heart of palm, a local delicacy that offers a unique twist on a classic dish. (Kat Tran/WUFT News) (1536x2048, AR: 0.75)
Jiménez refuses to use chemical pesticides on her palms. She relies on organic farming methods, creating her own compost from kitchen waste and using natural fertilizers. Her commitment to sustainability makes her farm a safer and healthier place for both workers and visitors.
Fruits of her labor
The heart of palm at the Jiménez family’s restaurant isn’t just an ingredient – it tells the story of hard work. The delicacy at the heart of the palm is also at the heart of the restaurant’s menu.
“We're going to give them a main course: hearts of palm lasagna, which is a gratin baked with cheese and chicken,” Kennia said. “Everything made here is natural. Everything will be used from right here.”
One of the restaurant’s star items is the pejibaye, the fruit of the peach palms Jiménez grows. The Costa Rican staple is boiled for over an hour and often served with mayonnaise and coffee. The seeds from the pejibaye are then used to grow new palm trees, ensuring a sustainable cycle.
María Luz Jiménez holds a pejibaye before it's cooked, showcasing the fruit in its raw, vibrant form. (Kat Tran/WUFT News) (6000x4000, AR: 1.5)
The Florida connection
The heart of palm has deep roots beyond Costa Rica. In rural Florida, it is known as swamp cabbage, as much a delicacy in Southern cuisine as it is in South and Central America.
David Fox, an urban forestry specialist, explains that unlike in Costa Rica, palm harvesting in Florida is often done on a smaller scale, with individuals cutting down trees for personal meals rather than large-scale farming.
“Florida even hosts an annual Swamp Cabbage Festival in LaBelle, celebrating this regional delicacy,” he said.
However, the industry faces threats such as Lethal Bronzing Disease, a deadly bacterial infection that affects several palm species, including the native sabal palm, Florida’s state tree. The disease disrupts the tree’s ability to transport nutrients, ultimately leading to its death. Once a tree is infected, there is no cure, and removal is the only way to prevent further spread.
Lethal Bronzing Disease has become a growing concern among conservationists and farmers alike. The rapid spread of the disease has raised questions about the long-term sustainability of Florida’s palm resources and the future availability of swamp cabbage as a traditional food source.
A legacy of growth
María Jiménez’s story is a powerful example of what support for small-scale farming can achieve. From the early days of pushing a wheelbarrow down the highway to building a successful ecotourism business, she’s created a lasting legacy that goes beyond the cultivation of palms.
“My mother is a very humble woman, a hard worker, and she always got ahead,” Kennia Jiménez said. “She is a very, very virtuous woman.”
María Jiménez’s success highlights the importance of placing local people at the heart of sustainable tourism. She has firmly rooted her future––and her farm––in the local soil, proving that sustainable tourism can thrive when led by those who know the land best.