The robust form, the broad, noble brow, and majestic looks...

Walter Scott, The Talisman

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Every child in San Miguel knows this man.



He sells paletas—popsicles.

I don't know about you, but at first glance, his mobile establishment doesn't look too promising. The exterior of his icebox looks pretty grimy. It's cracking and chipping, little crevices for harboring germs. The Bacardi box isn't helping his chldren's-treat-vendor image. What's the water jug for?

And that nose wheel! A restauranteur that doesn't maintain his facilities, what does that say about the quality of his offerings?

But we have learned that in Mexico, things are not always what they seem. After all, we're not looking at some cookie-cutter franchise outlet operated by a bored teenager. Here we have a business owner who directly serves his customers. His personal reputation is at stake. Besides, as we know, many Mexican vehicle owners seem to hold appearances as unimportant, putting money only into essentials. In this case, essentials would be paletas.

Paletas are to American popsicles as Chuck Berry is to Pat Boone. Paletas contain no preservatives, no artificial colors nor flavorings like their northern cousins. This man's paletas are not even mass-produced. His family takes ripe fruit, whirls it in a blender with a little water, adds some sugar and freezes the resulting liquid in rectangular pallets with a single stick thrust into the middle of each. Usually, chopped fruit is added to the mix at the last minute, so you get tasty little chunks as you eat your treat.

The flavors are great, too, and way more varied than the supermarket selection: lime, cantaloupe, strawberry, papaya, watermelon, pineapple, and coconut. Milk-based paletas include piña colada, pecan and guava. If you've tried all these and your are looking for something really different, try arroz, frozen from a sweetened liquid made with cooked rice to which are added cinnamon and raisins. Avoiding sugar? There's pepino con chile: cucumber with lime juice and chile powder. It's extraordinarily refreshing and thirst-quenching.

The photograph above was taken some time ago. The paleta man has since cleaned and repainted his icebox and replaced the front wheel. His enterprise looks much more inviting now. He's been selling cold treats for decades and must therefore depend on repeat business, so I'm certain that his wares are wholesome. So certain in fact that I occasionally treat myself to one.