Cocos Fríos: Lorenzo by the Bridge

Lorenzo’s been at his spot about eight years. Originally from Troncones and now living in Lagunillas, he comes in each morning with 20 to 30 coconuts, all sourced locally. Some he’s been asked to cut; some are given. He’s selective.

“You can tell by the weight,” Lorenzo says. If he doesn’t know the tree, he’ll open one up right there and taste it. If it’s good, the rest come down. Smaller ones, he mostly avoids—not enough water, not worth it.

Most people stopping at his stand go for the whole thing, no frills—ice cold coconut, straw—straight up. But you can also have Lorenzo scoop everything out, bag the water and give you the meat with lime, salt, and chili—to stay or to go. Simple, tasty, rejuvenating and about the best electrolyte boost you’re ever going to find.

He’ll tell you himself—coconut water is “the best hydration serum there can be.” Good for your kidneys, good for your body, something people reach for when they’re run down, overheated, or recovering. The meat, too, he says, “is very healthy.”

Some people take a few bags of the meat to make ceviche, coconut milk or yogurt, or even to make sweets. (For a really good example of coconut ceviche, walk over the bridge and go to La Cevichería.)

Lorenzo is easy to talk to, quick to smile, and genuinely enjoys meeting people from all over. Everyone, it turns out, knows how to say “coco”.

I often see him reading the Bible while he waits for the next person to walk up. When I asked him about that one day, he told me he belongs to a Pentecostal church in Lagunillas. But he wanted to talk about other things and, at one point, he showed me a video on his phone—himself, at the very top of a coconut tree, barefoot, no ropes, no helmet. That’s something he learned when he was young—how to climb, how to cut, how to know which ones are worth bringing down.

Now, he’s here, on the ground—cutting coconuts until they’re gone and passing on his joy to everyone who comes by.