Actually, I think of this rice not as a side dish, but as a little pot of sunlight you can scoop out by the spoonful. It takes me straight back to humid mornings in Chiang Mai, wandering markets full of cut limes and laughing over my hopeless language skills. Now, I stir this up whenever the Bristol skies grow moodier than my cat, Olive, on bath day.
The base? Jasmine rice. It smells like vacation even before you add lime. Trust me, it’s worth hunting down. Toss in the zest and juice of a proper lime—let it be gloriously green, not one of those sad, dry ones. What’s left is the magic: a flutter of fresh cilantro (which, actually, I chop with embarrassing enthusiasm), a handful of scallions, and the kind of olive oil that glows golden in a jar. The garlic? Barely a whisper, but you’ll miss it if it’s gone.
Lime and cilantro together do something wild: lime wakes everything up, cilantro hushes it with a green, grassy note, and suddenly rice—good old rice—becomes the centre of the whole meal. I never let this recipe get fussy. The best food is honest, abundantly generous, and leaves no trace but joy (and maybe one stray grain clinging stubbornly to the pan).
To make the Cilantro Lime Rice, you will need the following ingredients:
In a medium saucepan with a lid, combine 1 cup rinsed rice, 1 ½ cups water, and 1 teaspoon olive oil.
Bring to a boil, then cover and reduce the heat to a simmer. Simmer for 20 minutes, or refer to the package instructions for your specific rice variety.
Uncover and fluff the rice with a fork.
Stir in 1 minced garlic clove, 2 finely chopped scallions, and 1 teaspoon lime zest. Let cool for 1 minute.
Add the remaining 2 teaspoons olive oil, ¼ teaspoon salt, 1 ½ tablespoons lime juice, ½ cup finely chopped fresh cilantro, and a pinch of red pepper flakes or ¼ diced jalapeño, if using. Stir to combine. Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed.
Serve!
You will need a saucepan with a lid that fits snugly. My favourite one is as battered as my old tote bag, but it cooks rice just right every single time. Grab a wooden spoon, a sharp knife (blame my onion-chopping obsession), and a little grater for that glorious lime zest. If you want to get every speck of juice, a citrus reamer is magic. Oh—and don’t forget a fork for fluffing. Seriously, it makes all the difference.
I used to skip rinsing my rice. Rookie error! Those grains need a cold-water bath—think of it as a spa day—so they cook into beautiful, separate bites, not gluey misery. Bring your rice and water to a boil and then (this is key) turn the heat to barely-there low. I sometimes wonder if the stove is even on. Go slow. Rushing only gets you clumpy rice and disappointment.
Add the lime juice only after the rice has finished and cooled just a little. Trust me: this keeps those citrus notes bright and fresh, like a squeezed secret right at the end. Always pile in more cilantro than you think. Fold it gently—it’s not wallpaper paste. If you’re feeling mischievous, a sprinkle of red pepper flakes or even a few nibbles of diced jalapeño will make everything sing.
Sometimes I want a proper kick. I add diced jalapeño right in with the garlic and scallions—it softens into the rice, lending each bite a lively pop. This rice with spicy plant-based tacos or just a big heap of black beans is, honestly, dinner for me most Tuesdays.
Want something creamy and rich? Half coconut milk, half water for the cooking liquid is my secret. Suddenly, the rice is silky and ever so slightly sweet, like holiday hotel food but infinitely kinder. Pair it with Thai green curry, tempeh skewers, or whatever makes you smile.
This rice is wildly versatile. I pile it next to roasted sweet potatoes, or under my famous lentil Wellington when I feel nostalgic for Devon Sundays. When local farms drop off their knobbly vegetables, I roast them and spoon this rice alongside for a fresh, zippy contrast.
On taco nights, it’s an actual necessity—roll it up with beans and avocado, heap on extra cilantro if you’re feeling bold. Sometimes, I sneak a little into a wrap for the next day’s lunch, topped with whatever pickles I have lying about.
To garnish: extra cilantro, a few slices of ripe avocado, or if you’re feeling decadent, a crumble of vegan cheese. Sometimes I throw on toasted pepitas or even a stray radish from the garden. No rules here, only joy.
Absolutely! Just be prepared: brown rice takes nearly double the time and soaks up more water. I learned that the hard way the first time—hungry and impatient! If you’re using brown rice, add a splash more water and keep tasting until it’s as tender as you like.
Oh dear, no fresh cilantro? While nothing quite replaces that burst of green, you can use dried cilantro. Add it while the rice cooks so it has a chance to soften up and share its flavor. Remember, a third of the amount should do. It’s all about not wasting what is on hand!
Been there! For me, it’s all about gently rinsing your rice beforehand, measuring water with a steady hand, and fluffing—never stirring—once it’s cooked. If you end up with soggy rice, just spread it on a tray to steam away extra moisture. And remember: a fork is friendlier than a spoon here.
Yes and yes! Leftover rice goes straight into the fridge for me. When you want it again, reheat gently with a splash of water. I always add the fresh cilantro and lime just before serving, for that punch of flavour.
Easy—swap olive oil for a bit of veggie broth when cooking, just enough to get things sizzling. I do this sometimes when I want the lightest, freshest result. Just keep an eye on your garlic so it doesn’t catch and turn bitter. Gentle heat wins the race.
Lately, my thoughts have drifted to the vibrant flavors that a simple Cilantro Lime Rice can bring to my table. This dish is a culinary declaration of summer - bright, fresh, and refreshing, perfect for the dog days of summer. I find myself pondering how much lime juice I need to unleash the citrus punch, and whether it's best to finely chop the cilantro or leave it in larger pieces for those invigorating bursts of flavor with every bite. In this season of fresh herbs and vibrant cooking, I can see this herbed rice becoming one of my go-to sides - an uncomplicated yet essential part of my cooking repertoire, elevating simple weeknight dinners into something a bit more special.
Yep, one another bright, fresh, and refreshing summer side dish!
