Author: typepadtowordpress

 

Right about now, bounty from South of the Border is available on
your supermarket shelves. Fresh red raspberries and strawberries, grown just an hour south of Guadalajara on the shores of Lake Chapala, will give you the sweet taste
of Mexico’s sun and warmth.

When you go to your local super market, take a closer look at those
clear plastic containers (known in the trade as clamshells) full of red
raspberries. In the small print on the Driscoll label it says "Product
of Mexico". When I still lived in the States, I read that label and
imagined a gleaming white-tile packing factory. In my mind’s eye, I saw
employees in starched laboratory jackets, nurse-like white caps and
latex gloves, packing raspberries as the pink fruit came flying down an
assembly line. It was a fantasy worthy of Lucy and Ethel at the
chocolate factory in that famous episode of I Love Lucy.

The first time I visited the nearby red raspberry "packing factory" , I had to laugh at my own earlier ideas. This
packing operation was perfectly Mexican. Several clean-cut young men
with bandannas wrapped around their heads roamed up and down the rows
between lush raspberry canes. They hand-picked only the reddest, ripest
raspberries and gently placed them into small plastic buckets, the kind five-year-olds use at the beach.

Two young women dressed in blue jeans and caps stood at a long folding
table (the kind you’d find at a swap meet) and packed those perfectly
ripe red raspberries into flat after flat of Driscoll clamshells. They
packed the plastic boxes into case after case for shipping and then
rapidly started packing more.

Within 24 hours of picking, those berries are in the United
States, either in Miami or Los Angeles. A day later, they are heading
to stores across the United States. Red raspberries from the shores of
Lake Chapala are shipped not only to the United States but also to
Canada, to England, to all parts of Europe, and to Japan.

The half pint boxes sell for about $4.50 the box in grocery stores North of the Border.

Remember that raspberries are the most delicate fruits in the vast
berry family. Treat them with the softest touch, just like handling
like a newborn baby. Wash them gently (never allowing them to soak)
just before you serve them.

I prepared this wonderful recipe for guests just the other day. Not one single forkful was left over.

Raspberry Rosemary Sauce on Pork Medallions
1 medium or large orange
2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1/3 cup finely chopped onion or shallots
1/3 cup finely chopped carrot (1 small carrot)
1 large clove garlic, minced
1 1/4 teaspoons dried rosemary leaves, crushed
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme leaves, crushed
1 small bay leaf
1 package (6 ounces) red raspberries, divided
1/2 cup white wine
1 1/4 cups chicken broth
4 boneless center-cut pork chops
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/4 cup flour
Shredded green onion tops for garnish

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
 

Sauce:
Using a vegetable peeler or zester, cut eight to ten thin
strips from only the outer orange portion of orange peel and reserve.
Squeeze the juice from the orange, reserving 1/4 cup juice.

Heat the two teaspoons oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add
onion, carrot, garlic, orange peel and herbs. Cook, stirring
occasionally, until vegetables are lightly brown and wilted, about five
minutes. Add 1/4 cup of the raspberries, the reserved 1/4 cup orange
juice and the white wine.

Increase heat to high and bring mixture to a boil. Boil, stirring
occasionally, until mixture is reduced to about two tablespoons (about
eight to ten minutes). Add chicken broth. Bring mixture to a boil
again. Reduce heat and simmer for five minutes. Turn off heat and set
sauce aside.

Note: Sauce can be prepared ahead of time to this stage. Cover and refrigerate until ready to finish.

Pork Medallions:
Pat pork dry with paper towels. In a large,
oven-proof skillet, heat the 1 tablespoon oil over high heat. While oil
is heating, dust the pork evenly on both sides with flour, patting off
any excess. When the oil is very hot, add pork medallions and cook
until well-browned on the first side, about three minutes. Turn the
medallions over, place the skillet in the preheated oven and cook until
pork is just cooked through, this will be quick, only about six to
seven minutes.

Remove medallions to heatproof platter or serving plate, cover loosely with aluminum foil and keep warm while finishing sauce.

Strain the sauce back into the same skillet in which the pork was
cooked, pressing the solids through the strainer with the back of a
spoon. Add any juices that may have collected on the serving platter. Over high heat, bring the mixture in the skillet to a boil. Continue to
boil, stirring occasionally, until lightly thickened, about six to
eight minutes. Taste and season with salt and pepper, if desired.

Spoon a tablespoon of the sauce in the center of each of the
four warmed dinner plates. Place each pork medallion on top of the
sauce. Top with one tablespoon sauce, about two tablespoons raspberries
and a few strips of diagonally shredded green onion tops. Serve at once.

Makes four servings.

In case any of you might have health concerns about Mexican-grown
produce, here’s what the Driscoll people themselves say about the
safety of their raspberries and strawberries:

"Driscoll’s farmers have been leaders in the practice of
Integrated Pest Management (IPM) which relies on a balanced method of
natural and inorganic means to reduce disease and control pests in the
field. To insure that Driscoll’s fruit is the safest possible,
Driscoll’s employs a company which conducts third-party independent
residue testing of fruit in every Driscoll cooler and facility every
week."

The fields near here are Mexican owned and leased to
Driscoll solely for growing raspberries and strawberries. The raspberry
crop is rotated annually and the packing operation is moved each year
to the fields most convenient to the highway.

Near the raspberry fields are far-flung fields of Driscoll’s
other delicious crop—strawberries. Red jewels lie close to the ground,
nestled in dark green leaves. The strawberries are ripe and luscious
this time of year, ready to be hand picked, packed, chilled, and
shipped to all parts of the world. You’ll find them, packaged in clear
plastic one-pound boxes so you can see exactly what you’re choosing, in
the produce section of your favorite hometown supermarket. North of the Border, the boxes sell for about $2.50 in season.

These are not those huge strawberries grown more for looks than for
flavor. Is there anything more disappointing than biting into a
beautiful berry and finding it white in the middle, dry, hard and
tasteless? These berries are mid-size and grown for their sweet
taste—the best possible flavor—as well as beauty. Ripened more fully
prior to picking than those grown elsewhere, these local strawberries are
simply perfect.

Always refrigerate berries immediately—move them from the shopping bag
to the refrigerator. Temperatures between 34 and 38 degrees F are best,
but be sure not to freeze them! Fresh berries are very sensitive to
freeze damage. Remember this general rule: for every hour your berries
are away from refrigeration, you’ll lose a whole day’s shelf life.

Do not wash your berries until you are ready to prepare and eat them.
Moisture will hasten decay of these fragile berries, so keep them dry as well as
cold until the last moment.

Shelf life varies between berries; however, under ideal conditions,
strawberries should keep for about two to five days in your
refrigerator and raspberries should keep for between one and three
days. For best results, consume your berries as soon after purchase as
possible.

Are you drooling yet? Let’s look at more wonderful recipes for raspberry and strawberry treats.

White Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake
For the ultimate in red raspberry decadence, try this cheesecake.

18 vanilla wafer cookies
1 cup macadamia nuts, toasted
4 1/2 tablespoons butter, melted
4 ounces white chocolate, chopped
16 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
2/3 cup sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoons lemon juice
2 large eggs
3/4 cup fresh raspberries
8 ounces sour cream
3 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Crust:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Finely grind cookies
and macadamias in food processor. Add butter and blend until mixture
forms very moist crumbs. Press crumbs firmly onto bottom and part of
sides of an eight inch spring-form pan. Bake until golden (10 minutes).

Filling:
Melt white chocolate in microwave, (about 1 1/2 minutes), stopping
every 30 seconds to stir and to make sure it doesn’t burn. Set aside.
In a large bowl, use your electric mixer to beat cream cheese, sugar,
vanilla extract, and lemon juice until smooth. Add eggs, one at a time,
beating after each addition, just until combined. Beat in white
chocolate.

Spoon half the batter into the crust. Top with berries. Top with
remaining batter. Bake for about 45 minutes or until cake is set around
the edges, but center jiggles slightly.

Let cool for about 20 minutes before adding the topping.

Topping:
In a medium bowl, whisk sour cream, sugar, and vanilla. Spoon over
cake, spreading the topping to the edge of the pan. Bake five minutes.
Allow cake to cool and then refrigerate overnight. Serve plain or
garnish with more berries.

Here are a few tips for handling red raspberries,
whether you buy them here at Lakeside at the farm or in your North of
the Border supermarket.

If you want to freeze red raspberries, spread them out in a single
layer on a cookie sheet with sides and place the uncovered cookie sheet
in the freezer. After the raspberries are well frozen, shake them
gently into a zip-lock bag and immediately put them back in the
freezer. Your raspberries, whole and beautiful, will be ready for
immediate use when you need them.

Try the following recipe when you want to serve an unusual
fruit treat for a Sunday party brunch. Your guests will love the
refreshing berries in a very unusual dressing.

Cristina’s Ginger Strawberries
This recipe is served cold with a hint of spice and always makes a hit at brunch.

2 pounds fresh ripe strawberries
1 orange
2 tablespoons pickled ginger, drained
1 cup unflavored yogurt
2 tablespoons orange marmalade
2 tablespoons sugar or 2 packets artificial sweetener (Splenda, Sweet’n’Low, Equal)
1/4 teaspoon salt

Remove green caps from strawberries and wash gently. Pat dry in
a large terry cloth towel. Cut the strawberries in half and place in a
large mixing bowl.

With a vegetable peeler or zester, cut thin strips of orange
peel (orange part only). Cut the orange peel strips into tiny
matchstick-size strips, no longer than 1" and no wider than 1/16".

Cut the pickled ginger to the same size as the orange strips. Mix the ginger and the orange strips together.

Add the ginger and orange strips mixture, orange marmalade,
sugar (or artificial sweetener) and salt to the yogurt. Stir until
well-mixed.

Pour yogurt mixture over strawberries and stir gently to coat all the strawberries.

Refrigerate until well chilled. Serve.

This sorbet is delicious served either at the end
of a meal or served (in a tiny cup) as a refreshing palate cleanser
between otherwise spicy courses. I’ve served it scooped into tiny
fluted foil cups meant for chocolate truffles. The tiny servings, piled
high on crushed ice in a giant brandy snifter, make a beautiful
presentation.

        Fresh Strawberry Sorbet
        During strawberry season and the warmer days of spring and early summer, this easy sorbet  is a           cooling favorite.

1 cup sugar
1 cup water
2 pints fresh ripe strawberries
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
2 to 3 tablespoons vodka

Makes 8 to 10 servings
   

In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine sugar and water. Cook
and stir until mixture comes to a boil; reduce heat to low and simmer
five minutes. Remove from heat, cover, and let stand approximately 10
minutes.

Lightly rinse and dry the strawberries; hull and cut in halves. In a
food processor or blender, puree the strawberries with 1/4 cup of the
sugar syrup (sugar and water mixture). Add lemon juice, vodka, and
pureed strawberries to the remaining sugar syrup; stir until thoroughly
blended.

 
NOTE: The vodka (or any other type of alcohol) is the secret to
a soft sorbet. Alcohol itself does not freeze and adding a little bit
to the mixture keeps the sorbet from freezing. Vodka is an
excellent choice as it doesn’t change the flavor of the fruit.

Ice Cream Maker–Transfer mixture to ice cream maker, process according to manufacturer’s instructions.

Refrigerator Freezer Method–Pour into plastic container, cover,
and place mixture in the freezer. When it has frozen enough to be
semi-solid, mash it up with a fork and freeze again. When frozen, place
in a food processor or blender and process until smooth. Cover and
refreeze until serving time.

NOTE:Fresh strawberry sorbet can be prepared three days in advance. Cover and keep frozen.

Bringing fresh, ripe strawberries home from the field (or from the tianguis)
is tricky. It’s a good
practice to take a wicker basket or plastic container with you to put
your strawberries in for their trip home; like raspberries, they are
easily smashed and deteriorate quickly under their own weight in a
plastic bag.

If you buy either raspberries or strawberries in plastic clamshells,
save a clamshell or two for times when you might go to a pick-your-own
farm to protect the berries on the trip home. Bring your strawberries
home in the clamshells. You’ll be glad you did, when you realize your
freshly picked berries will arrive home in perfect condition.

Here are some fascinating statistics about strawberries: Canada imports all
of its fresh strawberries from either the United States or from Mexico.
The United States is the major importer of Mexican fresh strawberries.
Under NAFTA (the North American Free Trade Agreement), duty is no
longer charged on strawberry exports to either the USA or Canada.

Last, but certainly not least, let’s toast our local strawberries with a refreshing and beautiful strawberry margarita.

Strawberry Margaritas
The jewel of the season: try our fresh strawberry margarita recipe!

For two:
10 to 12 ripe strawberries
2 cups ice
2/3 cup prepared margarita mixer
1 tablespoon orange juice concentrate, thawed
2 teaspoons fresh key lime juice
Whole strawberries (for garnish)

Put strawberries in a blender with the ice, margarita mixer,
orange juice concentrate and lime juice. Blend until smooth
and slushy. Pour into two glasses and garnish with whole strawberries,
if desired.

Buen provecho!     

My friend Sra. Abundis prepared this clear gelatina.  It’s approximately 15" in diameter and stuffed with fresh red and green grapes, canned pineapple, and peaches.

Whether you’re having a midday meal at a traditional Mexican
restaurant anywhere in the República or celebrating at a private party at the home of Mexican friends, you can be almost 100% sure that a prominent item on
the dessert menu will be gelatins. As you browse the produce at any town’s tianguis
(street market) or elbow your way through the crowds at a fiesta patronal (patron saint’s celebration), you’ll see vendors selling plastic
cups and glasses of—you guessed it, jewel-colored gelatin desserts. Gelatina is a shimmering sweet fact of life in Mexico, popular with young and old alike.

What is this Mexican obsession with a food that smacks of 1950s Middle
America? Delight in gelatin desserts has been prevalent in Mexico for
years; marketing experts here report that it’s eaten daily in nearly
90% of Mexican homes. Mexicans consume more gelatin desserts than
nearly any other country in the world—three times the quantity of
gelatin consumed in the United States alone. In restaurants, the
dessert tray will almost always include a variety of gelatin desserts.
When Señora Fulana
(Mrs. So-and-So) is invited to a party at the home of her best friend,
it’s very traditional for her to take along a gelatin dessert, all
fancied-up and ready for the admiration of the rest of the attendees.
At a birthday party, the dessert of preference is rarely cake and ice
cream. It’s almost always a plate of cake and a jiggling serving of
gelatin, which requires no refrigeration to maintain its
shape.

There are far more ways to prepare gelatin desserts in Mexico than your
mother’s Jell-O mixed with fruit cocktail or shredded celery and carrots. Some of the desserts are
prepared with water, some with milk, and some are prepared as a layered
combination of both.  Some are major productions involving hours of labor intensive preparation time.

Sra. Abundis and Cristina prepared and painted this marvelous tiger gelatina for a child’s birthday party.

Several months ago it was my task to prepare individual serving cups of
gelatin for a two-year-old neighbor’s birthday party—it seemed like I
made hundreds. I thought it would be a complicated and difficult
project, but it turned out to be quite a lot of fun. After asking
another neighbor’s advice, I learned that it’s possible to buy powdered
gelatin at any dulcería (candy store) or grocery store.
The variety of available flavors is amazing: in addition to the
ordinary strawberry, lime, and orange, I also found pistachio, almond,
tamarindo, and peach.

While I could have kept my project simple, I decided to get
fancy. No single-flavor cups of gelatin for this party! I read the
directions printed on each bag and learned to prepare this flavor with
water, that one with milk. I combined a layer of strawberry (prepared
with water) with a layer of pistachio (prepared with milk). Recklessly,
I disregarded the instructions to use water to prepare the peach flavor
and used milk instead, combining an opaque peach-flavored layer with a
clear orange-flavored layer.

Commercially made in Guadalajara for sale in supermarkets, this three-layer single-serving gelatina includes a fruit layer (complete with a prune and its pit), a milk-based layer, and a clear layer.  The gelatina comes with its own tiny yellow plastic spoon.  These 200 gram gelatins are prepared with preservatives and artificial coloring.  Each one costs 7.1 pesos, or 65 cents US.

It’s so simple. Of course you can do this at home, even North of the
Border. Just buy two different flavors of your favorite brand of
gelatin dessert powder, some four-ounce plastic glasses, and have at
it. Prepare one flavor and fill each glass to the half-way point.
Refrigerate and allow that flavor to set. Prepare the second flavor,
using either milk or water, pour it on top of the already jelled flavor, and refrigerate until set.

One traditional recipe is for Mousse de Rompope (eggnog-flavored gelatin dessert). It is so delicious that it bears repeating now.

Rompope (rohm-POH-pay) Mousse with Strawberry Sauce

The mousse:
2 envelopes of unflavored gelatin
1/4 cup water
1 cup heavy cream
2 cups rompope (Mexican eggnog flavored liqueur)
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 egg whites

In a small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin onto the water and let stand
until absorbed, about five minutes. Meanwhile, heat the cream slightly
in a small saucepan. (Do not boil.) Remove from heat and stir in the
gelatin, mixing well to dissolve. Strain into a bowl; add the rompope and vanilla and mix well. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks. Fold
in the eggnog mixture, and then pour into a lightly greased 1.5 quart
ring-mold, bowl or specialty pan. Refrigerate at least four hours,
preferably overnight.

Strawberry Sauce:
1 pound strawberries, stems removed
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon almond extract, anisette or Frangelica (hazelnut flavored liqueur)

Place strawberries, sugar and flavoring in a bowl and let stand for two hours. Purée in a blender, strain and set aside.

Just before serving, remove the mousse from its mold and drizzle with
strawberry sauce. Garnish with slightly sweetened whipped cream. If
desired, the mousse can be molded with a graham cracker crust.

The preparation of gelatin desserts has been raised to a fine art in
Mexico. Special classes in gelatin preparation fascinate housewives and
give rise to thriving cottage industry here. Recipes metamorphose from
the relatively simple preparations in the preceding recipes to the most
elaborate of flavor and design combinations. Recently, the craze for
making individual clear gelatin desserts which contain flowers also
made of gelatin has hit Mexico like a bombshell.

Flower gelatins like this one, made and copywrited by the Abundis family, are called gelatinas encapsuladas.  The flowers are made with a syringe.  Neither Sra. Abundis nor Cristina took classes in making the flowers, although many handicrafts schools and individuals offer those courses.

This week I was fortunate to spend some time with Sra. Abundis and her daughter, Cristina, who operate a small home-based business in Guadalajara.  The Abundis family invited me to come watch and take pictures as they prepared special gelatinas for a child’s birthday party.   Mother and daughter have worked together for the last two to three years, preparing made-to-order gelatins for birthdays, baptisms, girls’ fifteenth birthday parties, baby showers, engagement parties, and weddings.

The gelatina personality of the day was Spiderman.  Cristina explained that the gelatin for the Spiderman mold and many more are milk-based, while other gelatins are water-based.  Milk gives the gelatina a more nutritious aspect than does plain water and also makes Spiderman’s features show up better after they’re painted.

In the Abundis kitchen, Spiderman is fresh out of the mold.  A selection of milk ingredients is lined up behind him, along with a small plate full of individual-serving Spiderman heads.

Sra. Abundis showed me the basic ingredients for the dessert; once the basics are assembled, they’re flavored with vanilla.  Spiderman is prepared with powdered milk.  Other gelatinas are made with sweetened condensed milk or with evaporated milk.  The Abundis family uses pure cane sugar and unflavored gelatin for its desserts.  No preservatives are added.  These home-prepared gelatinas must be consumed within 48 hours of their preparation.

Many fancy gelatinas are painted once they’re chilled and set.  Spiderman is no exception.  The paints are special vegetable food coloring gel, manufactured here in Guadalajara. 

Sra. Abundis watches closely as Cristina paints Spiderman’s red base coat.

While Cristina painted, Sra. Abundis told me that when her relatives moved from Mexico City to Guadalajara in 1940, there was no gelatina in the city.  Finally the relatives found a source–one stall at the Mercado Corona in Guadalajara’s Centro Histórico sold it.

Cristina starts the initial work with black gel food coloring, outlining Spiderman’s eyes.  She holds a licenciatura (bachelor of arts) in graphic design from the University of Guadalajara.

"The gelatina has to be very cold in order to paint it," Cristina commented.  "If it’s not as cold and firm as possible, the paint will run."  Spiderman stayed briefly in the freezer between coats of food coloring gel.

Spiderman’s intricate thread work is complete.

I asked Sra. Abundis and Cristina which molds are most popular for parties. "Right now, Spiderman is the one all the kids want.  Of course they also like Buzz Lightyear, Sponge Bob, all the Disney princesses, and Barbie.  The old favorites like Winnie the Pooh, Mickey Mouse, and Tweetie Bird are always popular."

Josua Isai
Abundis Linares, Cristina’s nearly six year old nephew, participated eagerly in the time I spent with his family.  He and I both anticipated our dessert: one of the individual Spiderman heads.

Cristina added, "For adult parties like weddings and baby showers, people want gelatinas encapsuladas, the ones with the flowers, to accompany their special cakes.  And it’s funny, the kids gobble down their gelatinas, but the adults want to save theirs.  The flowers are so beautiful."

Cristina shows off the finished product: Spiderman in person!  Sra. Abundis painted the blue base.  The cost of this fantastic super hero is 130 pesos, approximately $11.50 USD.

"The people who ordered this Spiderman for their child’s party will pick it up late this afternoon.  The party is tomorrow."  Cristina was happy that she finished the painting with no smears. 

For dessert after your midday meal, for a snack or for a light supper,
sweet wiggly gelatina satisfies every time. Cooling and slithery, a
gelatina is just the ticket when you need a little something, but you
don’t want too much.

They knew what they were talking about, way back then, when they said, "There’s always room for…"

If you happen to be in Guadalajara and need a gelatina for a special party, contact the Abundis family:

                Tiny Gelatinas
                Calle Ciprés #1819
                Colonia del Fresno
                Guadalajara, Jalisco
                Tel: 3812-8426 or 044-33-3815-1917

 

When I was a little girl, a Popsicle was a big deal. Summertime meant that the ice cream truck, bell tinkling, would trundle through the neighborhood where I lived. After a frantic plea to Mom for money, she counted out coins and I raced to the corner where the rest of the kids were already gathered, waiting for the vendor to dig through his icy case for cherry, lime, or the reviled banana. The odor of amyl acetate (the chemical used for artificial banana flavoring) remains cloyingly in my memory.

Remember? Hot summer days made those frozen snacks melt quickly, down childish fingers and the side of the hand, down the wrist and almost to the elbow in sticky trails of blood red and pale green. Nips of the cold treat slid in a chilly track from tongue to stomach, giving a few moments relief from childhood summers’ heat and humidity. We didn’t care that they were artificially flavored; Popsicles were a summer joy. Once I was an adult, I left them behind in favor of more sophisticated gelatos and sorbets.

Long before I dreamed of venturing to Mexico, Ignacio Alcázar of Tocumbo, Michoacán had a vision. Paletas—frozen treats similar to Popsicles—were on his mind. Tocumbo was a tiny village in the 1940s.  Life there was harsh and subsistence was difficult. Eking a hardscrabble living from the sugar cane fields of the region around Tocumbo depended as much on Mother Nature’s vagaries as on a farmer’s backbreaking work. In those days, the pay for peeling 2,000 pounds of sugar cane was two pesos. Campesinos (field workers) could expect to earn a maximum of three pesos a week.

But making a living selling paletas depended solely on creating a desire for something delicious and refreshing to satisfy someone’s antojo (whim). In the mid-1940s, Ignacio Alcázar, his brother Luis, and their friend Agustín Andrade left the misty mountains and pine forests of Michoacán and headed for Mexico City, the country’s burgeoning hustle-bustle capital. The men had made paletas in Tocumbo for several years, but it was time to try their hand in the big city.

In 1946, the three men, illiterate native sons of Tocumbo, established an ice cream shop in downtown Mexico City. The new paletería (paleta shop) wasn’t elegant, but it worked. People clamored for more and more paletas. The Alcázar brothers and Andrade expanded, and expanded again. They sold franchise after franchise of their paleta brainchild to their relatives, friends, and neighbors from Tocumbo. The single shop that the two men started became the most successful small-business idea in Mexico in the last half century, known across the country as La Michoacana. More than 15,000 La Michoacana outlets currently exist around Mexico, most of them owned by people from the town of Tocumbo.

Mexico City alone has more than 1,000 La Michoacana outlets. Usually the paleterías are called La Michoacana, La Flor de Michoacán or La Flor de Tocumbo.  No Mexican town with more than 1,000 residents is without one. Only Pemex, the nationalized petroleum company, has blanketed Mexico so completely.

When I moved to Mexico in 1981, a Mexican friend insisted that she was going to buy me a paleta. "A Popsicle?" I scoffed. She took me by the scruff of the neck and all but shoved me into the nearest La Michoacana. I peered into the freezer case and was amazed to see hundreds and hundreds of rectangular paletas, organized flavor by flavor, lined up in stacks in their protective plastic bags.

And what flavors! Mango (plain or with chile), blackberry, cantaloupe, coconut, guava, and guanábana (soursop) were arranged side by side with strawberry, vanilla, and—no, that brown one wasn’t chocolate, it was tamarindo. Some were made with a water base and some with a milk base. Every single paleta was loaded top to bottom with fresh fruit. There was nothing artificial about these. I was hard pressed to decide on just one flavor, but I finally bit into a paleta de mango and was an instant addict.

The story of the paleteros (paleta makers) from Tocumbo piqued my curiosity. For many years I’ve been determined to visit this out-of-the-way town. I finally made the trip to the place where it all started. Getting to Tocumbo isn’t simple, but driving the two-lane back roads winding along green mountains is lovely.

The names of the towns I passed through (Tarácuato, Tlazazalca, Chucuandirán, Tinguindín) roll off the tongue in the ancient rhythmic language of the Purhépecha (Michoacán’s indigenous people). Women, teenage girls, and children wear beautiful ropa típica (native dress) as they walk to market or gather wood in the hills. Fragrant wood smoke mixes in the air with the crisp scent of pine. Wildflowers dot the roadsides and mountains with purple, orange, yellow and blue.

The well-manicured entrance to the town of Tocumbo lets you know immediately that you have arrived. No statues of Miguel Hidalgo or Benito Juárez grace the junction, nor is there a proud plaque commemorating a favorite local hero. Instead, the townspeople have erected a two-story statue of (what else?) a paleta. I’d seen photos of the monument, but the actual sight of the huge frozen delight made me laugh out loud.

Carefully trimmed trees, flowers, and lawns edge both sides of the road into town. Large, well-appointed homes line the streets and the local trucks and cars are recent models and very well maintained. Tocumbo has one of the highest per capita incomes of any town in Mexico.

My first stop was at the Tocumbo parroquia (parish church). Named in honor of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the church is modern and beautifully adorned with stained glass. The architect who designed the church is Pedro Ramírez Vázquez.  Arquitecto Ramirez also designed some of Mexico’s most famous buildings, including the Basílica of our Lady of Guadalupe, the 1968 Olympic Games installations, Aztec Stadium, the National Anthropology Museum and the National Medical School buildings, all in Mexico City.

Arquitecto Ramírez is one of the most outstanding building designers in Mexico today. It’s particularly telling of the economic power of the town that the people of Tocumbo contracted with him to design their parish church.

As I sat for a bit in the town plaza, two local women strolled across the square eating paletas. After we greeted one another, I asked who the best person in town would be to give me local history. They directed me to the mayor’s office on the other side of the plaza.

I spent several hours at the Tocumbo mayor’s office talking with town official German Espinoza Barragán, who told me long stories of life and times in Tocumbo, and the history of the paleta.

Sr. Espinoza mentioned that many people erroneously believe that all La Michoacana stores throughout Mexico are owned by one family. "You already know that the founders were Ignacio Alcázar, his brother Luis, and their friend Agustín Andrade, and that they sold the first La Michoacana franchises to their relatives and friends. After that, the relatives and friends sold franchises to their relatives and friends, and the business just continued to spread. With a simple formula of handmade products produced every day and sold inexpensively, the business has produced hundreds of jobs as well as a high standard of living that’s different from any other town in the region."

Sr. Espinoza commented, "All of our streets are paved, and all have street lights. People live very well here, although it’s difficult to say how many actually do live here year round."

I looked up from my notes. "Why is that?"

"A lot of tourists from all over Mexico and many other countries pass through this town," he began. "Many see that our life here is peaceful, our climate perfect, and our town beautiful, so they ask about renting or buying a house here. Once they see Tocumbo, everyone wants to stay."

I nodded in agreement. The thought had occurred to me.

Sr. Espinoza nodded too. "People say, ‘Find me a house to rent.’ I just tell them to forget it, it’s hopeless. Then they tell me, ‘But so many of the houses here in town are vacant! Surely the owners would like to rent their houses.’ I shake my head, even though up to 75 per cent of the houses here in Tocumbo are vacant for eleven months of the year.

"The thing is, everyone comes home at Christmas. No matter whether so-and-so’s family lives all year round in Chiapas or Tijuana working in their La Michoacana store, in December everyone is here. Where would they stay, if their houses were rented?

"During the 1990 census, INEGI (the Mexican census bureau) tried to count the number of people in town. They counted about 2,400 people. But truly, triple that number call Tocumbo ‘home’. No one misses the holiday season here. They come home to tell their stories, to find out the last word in the business, to look for a girlfriend, to get married, to have quinceañeras (a girl’s15th birthday celebration), to baptize their babies. They put off all of these festivities for months, until the winter low season for selling paletas arrives and they can come home.

"This year, the Feria del Paletero (Fair of the Paleta Maker) starts on December 22 and ends on December 30. There will be sports events, free paletas, rides for kids and adults, and other things for everyone to do. You should come."

"The success of the Tocumbo paleta business must inspire people all over Mexico," I commented.

Once again Sr. Espinoza nodded. "It’s a kind of work that offers even the person with the least schooling a way to make a good living, without going to work in the United States and without getting involved in selling illegal drugs."

He returned to the history of the business. "Of course, word of the success of the new paleta business in Mexico City reached Tocumbo really fast. All Tocumbo packed its suitcases and went to get in on the gold mine. Everybody was buying paleta stores. And the best is, all the contracts were made on the solid word of the parties, without any paperwork, and all the loans to start the businesses were made between the buyers and the sellers. No banks were involved.

"This first generation of paleteros (paleta makers) felt the obligation to let everyone have a part of the success. Remember that Tocumbo is a very small town. Almost everyone is related to everyone else. Everyone of that generation had grown up together, and everyone shared just a few last names. The belief was ‘today it’s your turn, tomorrow it’s mine’. And everyone lived by that.

"Today, things are a little different, but only a little. There’s still room for all the paleterías in Mexico, and the majority belong to Tocumbans. Even though other ice cream stores like Bing and Dolphy have opened and there are even new brands coming in from the United States, there’s no other big success like we have had. To start with, the paleta is the people’s business, not corporate business. Other businesses might spend huge amounts of money on advertising and special wrappings, but we Tocumbans don’t run our businesses that way. We’re flexible, we save our money, and we work very hard. The paleterías are open from early in the morning till late at night, every day of the year. Even when the owners are home for the holidays, their employees are working in the stores. We make only as many paletas as we can sell each day. We don’t use chemicals in our paletas, and we adapt the flavors to the regions where our stores are."

Sr. Espinoza went on to tell me that the most popular flavor paleta is mango, because it’s the fruit that everyone in Mexico loves. He continued, "In the south of Mexico, we have to offer mamey, zapote, and plátano. Where people have more income, we can sell a paleta for seven pesos. Where income is lower, such as in the states of Chiapas and Oaxaca, we sell a paleta for five pesos. We keep our stores very simple, so everyone can feel comfortable to come inside. And we try to open our stores in places where lots of people congregate: near schools, near hospitals, and near sports facilities."

The story of this business amazed me. I shook my head and said, "What was the next step for the paleteros?"

"When we saw that so many Mexicans were living in the United States, the next logical move was to start stores there. We started moving there too, and opened the first shops in California, Texas, Arizona, and Florida. And now—now there are La Michoacana stores in Pennsylvania, in Chicago, and in New York. Next will be Central and South America, you’ll see.

"Did you look at the monument at the entrance to town?" Sr. Espinoza asked me.

"Of course! It’s wonderful," I exclaimed.

"On the way out of town, look at it again," he said. "Look, a little drawing of it is on my business card." He handed me the card. "See the blue ball of ice cream in the paleta? And see the paletas all over the ball?" I did see them. "The blue ball represents the earth, and the bright colored paletas cover it." He smiled at me. "And someday, paletas from Tocumbo, Michoacán will truly cover the globe."

I have absolute faith that he’s right.

NOTE:  Be sure to see the update to this post, published on December 19, 2007.