The Puerto Rico Farm Stay Revolutionizing Hospitality

This piece marks the beginning of a series produced by United Voices, a new Dinogo immersion initiative that unites local content creators with Dinogo editors for workshops, storytelling, and shared experiences in a destination. We’re launching in Puerto Rico.

As the eggs in the pan start to transform into silky ribbons, Crystal Díaz finally has her answer. For several minutes prior, the 37-year-old entrepreneur and owner of El Pretexto—a small farm and bed-and-breakfast located an hour from San Juan in Cayey, Puerto Rico—has been pondering, whisking 17 freshly laid eggs into a frothy mixture, pouring them into a well-worn pan, and gently stirring them over low heat. We stand in the outdoor kitchen of the B&B, which she launched in 2018, surrounded by the lush Cordillera Central mountains, adorned with green palms, pines, and banana trees. The sun shines down, birds sing their morning songs, and Santiago the rooster crows, providing the only backdrop to the soft scrape of a spatula and the gentle footsteps of Pepe the dog on the deck. Finally, Díaz responds to my earlier question: I admire the stunning environment you’ve cultivated here. What’s something people often overlook?

“People rarely inquire about the level of sacrifice involved in this. A business that demands your constant presence is incredibly taxing. It takes a toll on relationships and finances—it’s significant. You have to truly love it,” she explains. “Some mornings I wake up and wonder if I should just return to a 9 to 5 and simplify my life. But I know that’s a joke because I could never do that.”

Díaz is familiar with the traditional 9 to 5 grind. After spending 14 years in marketing, she seriously contemplated leaving her job to pursue something she felt was, well, more: Cooking had always been her passion, prompting her to apply to—and gain acceptance at—the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, New York. While wrapping up projects at her job and awaiting the start of her studies, she decided to purchase some land in the countryside to cultivate her own food. After sharing this plan with her mother and her mother's husband, he took it seriously, reaching out to friends and contacts. Within weeks, Díaz found the property that would become El Pretexto. “I fell in love,” she recalls. “It never hit the market, and I didn’t look at any other houses. This was the one. The farm came before the table.”

Gradually, Díaz’s vision evolved. Instead of leaving Puerto Rico to learn, she chose to remain and develop the land. She acquired the property at the end of 2016, envisioning a farm stay that would draw travelers away from the popular spots of San Juan and Vieques, inviting them into the lush central-southeast mountains; one that would collaborate with local farms; one that showcased the richness of Puerto Rican produce. The timing felt perfect.

“I realized that if I was ever going to pursue this, it had to be now. If it didn’t pan out, I’d still have a solid résumé and could find another job. I also just felt that my current life wasn’t truly me anymore.”

For months, Díaz dedicated herself to the property, clearing land, cultivating a personal garden, and getting the 30-year-old wooden villa ready for guests. By late summer 2017, El Pretexto opened its doors—only for Hurricane Maria to strike in September, devastating the deck and uprooting over 25 trees, along with the garden beds and henhouse. The hurricane wreaked havoc across the island, causing months of power outages and approximately $2 billion in agricultural losses, leaving the island’s farmers “decimated” by the disaster. Undeterred, Díaz began the process of rebuilding with the support of her neighbors, volunteers, and funding from various local nonprofits and trusts. Within a year, she was back in business.

Today, El Pretexto feels like an oasis, so high and removed from the town that as I stepped into my room, I wondered if someone had left a “jungle sounds” app playing. The melodies of birds and the calls of coquis, the native tree frogs, were that vivid. The property features two apartments in the villa and two more in a modern concrete house that Díaz’s neighbor sold her after the hurricane. The interiors are bright and minimalist yet cozy. (Despite the comfort of the bed, I found myself mostly in the hammock outside, swaying while gazing at the mountains.) Every member of Díaz’s small team of five hails from the surrounding communities.

The main house, where Díaz resides, serves as the heart of El Pretexto. It features a wraparound deck, an outdoor kitchen, and a long dining table that comfortably seats 25. This table is where Díaz’s vision of connecting food, farm, and culture comes to life. Guests are invited to pop-up dinners, and on one of the evenings during my visit, I find myself seated next to Betty and Josefina, the owners of Finca Atabey, Puerto Rico’s only women-owned farm, located in nearby Santa Isabel. They established the farm in 2008, driven by concerns about agriculture and food production in Puerto Rico, where approximately 85 percent of the food consumed is imported. On the menu, prepared by chef Luis Andres Cabrero, is their golden Taíno pumpkin, featured in steamed, mashed form, and as filling for goat cheese dumplings topped with roasted garlic aioli. The menu highlights other local collaborations: creamy cauliflower soup (with vegetables from KYV Farm); avocado salad (Utuado Farm); spinach-stuffed chicken breast with vegetable gratin (Aibonito Farm; Huerto Rico); and a decadent brioche bread pudding made with chocolate from Montadero, a small-batch, bean-to-bar chocolate maker in nearby Caguas.

The next morning, I wake up at 6, still feeling full, with Santiago the rooster crowing once more. After spending some more time in the hammock, I make my way to the main house, pausing to greet the chickens and take in the mountains once again. Díaz is already awake, bustling around the house, placing bowls of fresh mango and papaya on the table, taking coffee orders, and preparing a platter of breadfruit waffles to share. When it’s finally time for breakfast, she stops, picks up Santiago, surveys everyone gathered, and smiles.