Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Just a few blocks from our home, the streets begin to look more and more like Mexico. There's a ferretería, a llantería, a florería, a panadería...best of all, there's a paletería. Among many other reasons, I love this because it means that I can stop in for a paleta (popsicle) and pretend that I'm out traveling someplace that requires a passport.

On a trip through Mexico we spent a handful of days in San Blas. Just doors down from our hostel we found a new addiction. A paletería with cooler after cooler filled with homemade popsicles in exotic flavors, some of which we'd never heard of. A few times a day we'd go in and grab another flavor, trading back and forth to try and discover our favorites, and brag when ours turned out to be the better choice. Jackfruit? Guanabana? Rompope? The winner: mango. There is nothing in the world to top a fresh mango popsicle that breaks apart into little pieces of mouthwatering mango fruit on your tongue.

And so, when it's 106 outside and the A/C in our car has long since given up the ghost, sometimes the best thing I can do for my spirit is to stop, have a popsicle, and daydream. Even better if that popsicle is of the mango variety.