A Paletography of Los Angeles - Part One

Display case of paletas de agua at Mateo's

 It's a tough job, but someone has to do it. The mission? A comprehensive survey of paletas, or Mexican ice-pops in Los Angeles. No simple popsicle, paletas are made in small shops with fresh fruit and exotic ingredients, and can be simple and sweet or complicated combinations of flavors that include chile, cucumber, dried fruits, and other seasonings.

I have a list of a dozen paleta shops, ranging from Culver City to Anaheim and El Monte, that are noted as great examples of the Mexican paleta tradition. It will take several excursions to explore them all, but today we made the first foray. We packed a cooler with ice so we could bring samples back to taste and compare.

A Paletography of Los Angeles - Pucker up!

Pinatas outside Paleteria Limon

 A very typical California strip mall - modern, stucco-faced, with fake tile and quasi-Spanish detail, flanked in by shiny new model Camrys, Hyundais and SUVs - nevertheless reveals the demography of the small community of Maywood, 97% of whose residents identified themselves as Latino in the 2010 census.

Here a dulceria, selling Mexican sweets and candies, and a zapateria, or shoe store, flank the Paleteria Limon, a frozen fruit bar store so popular the line was going out the door the day we visited.

A Paletography of Los Angeles - Part Two

The Warner Theatre in Huntington Park, closed

 If a helicopter were to drop you down on the sidewalk of Pacific Avenue in Huntington Park, you'd think you were in some small town in America's Midwest. On a sunny summer Saturday afternoon, the sidewalks are full of families shopping in the stores that line the street with its old-fashioned buildings, some from the early years of the last century, some art deco. There's a J.C. Penney, discount clothing stores, jewelry stores, bakeries, coffee shops and mom-and-pop restaurants.

There's even a old art deco movie palace - closed up, as it probably would be in any small Midwestern town, but fabulous with its ziggurat tower, scroll-topped pilasters, and curved neon marquee.

And on a warm summer afternoon, it's nice to see an old-fashioned ice cream parlor, hand-painted sign, kids' bikes parked outside, cheerful flowers in pots.

Thematic photographic - Frozen

Carmi at the blog "Written, Inc." posts a photographic challenge each week at Thematic Photographic. This week, the theme is "Frozen."

Cantaloupe flavored paleta

In Los Angeles, as in Mexico, these icy, frozen fruit bars are called paletas, and they're available in a vast array of flavors. Not just a popsicle, the paleta can be chock full of natural ingredients, chunks of familiar or exotic fruits, suspended in their own juice or in cream, sometimes with nuts or spices like chile.

In Mexico City, there are plenty of ice cream shops, but for some reason the paleta is strongly identified with the state of Michoacan. Here on the busy corner of Calle de Lopez and Vizcainas, the La Michoacana Paleteria sells ice cream and frozen ice cream bars.

In Los Angeles, the brand of La Michoacana persists - this is an ice cream bar bought from a local corner store, flavored with cucumber and chile. Throughout the streets of L.A. as in Mexico City, paleteros, or paleta-vendors, push low, wheeled carts, jingling with bells.

Sour yellow cherry flavor

But business is good enough to sustain brick-and-mortar stores, too. Some ice cream stores also sell shakes, juice or vegetable smoothies, or licuados - shakes made with milk or cream.  For a restorative, you can get a vampiro, which is a bloody-red smoothie made with beets and carrots as well as orange and pineapple juice.

Mateo's paletas

Here's the array of paletas sold at Mateos, a small business with stores in Culver City and in the Pico neighborhood.

Fresa - strawberry - and cream

The name paleta means, literally, a trowel - a play on the shape of the ice cream bar.

Paleta vendors in Chapultepec Park, Mexico City

Paleta flavors can be creative, with tropical fruit like mamey, tuna - the fruit of the cactus, guanabana, or soursop; you can get them made with cajeta, the caramelized condensed milk beloved by Mexicans; the rice-and-vanilla horchata - and many more.

Explore the frozen world beyond the popsicle! Try paletas!

Santee Alley

In the 1920s, shortly after the founding of the Ladies' Garment Workers Union in New York City, garment manufacturers moved to Los Angeles, where the civic leaders were unsympathetic to unions, and cheap labor was available.

To be fair, Los Angeles had more than cheap labor - it had a unique niche in the national market. Its warm climate and casual life-style made it the perfect home for women's swimwear companies like Cole of California and Catalina, and other manufacturers of resort and warm-weather fashion.

By 1990, Los Angeles has more workers employed in the garment industry than any other city in the country.

The downtown Los Angeles Fashion District is an area bordered - roughly - by 7th Street to the north, the 10 Freeway to the south, Main Street to the west and San Pedro Street to the east. In this area are design showrooms, manufacturers, suppliers and sellers of fashion clothing, accessories, and textiles.

You can find high-end fashion at some of the big wholesale markets and sample sales if you really want to score some fancy threads, but one of my favorite experiences is to go shopping on the cheap, at the smaller stores and markets on the traffic-choked streets.

The streets north of Olympic are lined with wholesale fabric stores that also sell retail. Bolts of fabric are displayed right on the sidewalk, and the brilliant colors shine in the hot summer sun.


One of my favorite fabric stores is Ashanti Fabrics, an importer of African crafts and fabrics. Manikins wearing colorful agbadas and kaftans are displayed outside the narrow store, and inside bolts of fabric line the walls. You can buy kente cloth or Dutch cotton batik - also known as "wax". There are also bolts of elaborately cut and brightly colored lace, much prized for making clothes for celebrations and ceremonies.

I've bought "wax" here before - they sell it in pre-cut lengths of six yards, and display it in neatly folded packages on the floor. For $5.99 a yard, I made a curtain to screen an open closet, quick and easy.


There are also shops that sell trims, buttons, and millinery supplies. Here's a display of tassels.

And the most vibrant area to shop is Santee Alley.

This narrow alley runs between Maple Avenue and Santee Street, starting south of Olympic. It's a crowded and chaotic space, crammed with displays and people, where the vendors agressively hawk their wares. In addition to the storefronts, there are individual vendors on the street selling everything from DVDs to bottled water to ice cream to illegal pet turtles. Everything's for sale in Santee Alley.

The stores and stalls that open onto the alley hold the steepest discount items. There are displays of womens' shoes - everything from five-inch platform heels to flip-flops. I sat debating over some sandals, flat-soled and decorated with chrome studs and rhinestones - mine for only $15, all plastic and sure to make my feet sweat! The moment passed and I moved on.

If you're in the market for cheap sunglasses, you can find them here. Counterfeit bags, sexy lingerie, cast metal belt buckles, rolling luggage in fanciful print colors - you got it. This year the bright and intricate designs of Ed Hardy seem to be popular - whether counterfeit or real, you can see Ed Hardy-esque merchandise displayed all along the alley.

People are packed in here, and the flow of the crowd carries you along. You can hear multiple languages and accents. The vendors cry out prices - "Fi' dolla, fi' dolla, fi' dolla!" and there's always music playing somewhere - usually straining the ability of the cheap boom-box speakers. It's a great scene for people-watching. There are families with kids in strollers, and vendors display toys that quack or squeak or yip, adding to the din.

Here's a short video clip that gives you an idea of the scene.

Here a family has bought their little boy a toy gun that blows soap bubbles. They float in the air among the shoppers.

There are a lot of strolling vendors, too, but only those who can carry their wares with them can sell in the alley itself - it's far too narrow for push carts or display stands. We saw a woman selling videos, standing in the middle of the alley, letting the crowd flow around her like river water flowing around a rock. Another guy wore a bright jester's hat and sold pennants for a Mexican futbal team.

Vendors with pushcarts stake out the sidewalks on Maple Avenue, or on the cross streets. Here a well-equipped cart cooks the ubiquitous bacon dogs that downtown Los Angeles is famed - or notroius - for. No county health inspectors around today. There's nothing like a bacon dog after a long day of shopping.

The area is also notorious for other illegal sales, including unregulated pets. Although I've never seen them, there is apparently a flourishing trade in birds and live turtles that is illegal, and frequently these vendors get busted by the community safety officers that patrol this area.

I'm not sure how legal this vendor is. She had two puppies for sale. I asked if I could take their pictures, and she cheerfully agreed. They looked healthy enough, and I was charmed by how cute they were, but since I believe in adopting shelter dogs, I took a pass.

Like I said, you can buy anything here.

A common sight here are the paleteros, or ice-cream push-carts - you see at least three in every block. These hand-pushed coolers sell paletas, Mexican ice-cream bars made with fruit and milk, or frozen chopped fruit. Paletas come in a wonderful assortment of flavors, including more exotic flavors like coconut, mango, and mamey. Some are flavored with chiles and cinnamon, or have chunks of fruit or nuts and seeds frozen in them. The palateros in the garment district also stock some American-style treats like Drumsticks and Strawbery Shortcake bars.

The boxy carts are the size of camping coolers on wheels, and each cart is equipped with a set of bells mounted us under the push handle. They jingle when the cart is in motion, or when the paletero flicks it with his hand to make it sound. The bells are brass and have a bright, loud sound that adds to the music of the street.

Here's a clip showing two paleteros on the corner of Maple and Olympic - the seller to the left has a lot of customers, so the seller in the hat has decided to move on down Olympic to look for new territory.

There's just something about the sound of the bells I really like.

If you don't mind crowds, and you enjoy shopping in a different environment from a typical shopping mall, a trip to L.A.'s garment district is fun and interesting. Bring cash, and watch your belongings, but come to enjoy it.

A busy week

We had a great week with family, sightseeing in Los Angeles. We saw a lot of things, ate a lot of great food, and had a lot of fun. Here are some images.

A trip downtown for brunch, and a tour of the historical district.

Jack and his friend Franny

A visit to friends in Malibu, with beautiful views, home-cooked treats, and a good time for Jack, who got to reconnect with his friend Franny.

A full day - that included Korean barbecue

A trip to the Griffith Observatory

Musso and Frank Grill

Dinner at an iconic Hollywood institution

and an evening at the Dresden in Silver Lake, hearing the incomparable Marty and Elayne perform.

A trip to East El Ay for some tacos, and a run for paletas in Huntington Park.

Fugetsu-Do sweet shop in Little Tokyo

 Drinks in Little Tokyo ( mmm...bacon old-fashioned!)


Wednesday night, we took our friend Kurly to the airport for her next adventure - teaching in Cambodia!

Street art, Culver City

The next day, we prepared for a gathering at our house, but went out to lunch and feasted on ceviche and fish tacos.

Bar snacks at A-Frame

Yesterday we visited a favorite Culver City watering hole and the Museum of Jurassic Technology.

What next?

A Paletography of Los Angeles - like a frozen pickle!

Much as I like the idea, I fail to be thrilled with the execution. Of cucumber-chile paletas, that is.

This one is from Cascada Refrescante, and it's a beautiful paleta - soft frosty green, and with a touch of the artistry this little South Central paleteria brings to all its products. Here, a slice of cucumber, with its dark green peel, adorns the base of the pop.

Cascada's pops are also generous - they are larger and thicker than pops from comparable paleterias.

But when I bit into it, I recoiled from the sensation. Salty, sour and hot all at the same time, it was like biting into a frozen dill pickle. Spiced with cayenne! It didn't seem to have the slightest bit of sweetness at all. It made my lips tingle!

Now, I like spicy dill pickles. But this didn't work for me. And it didn't work for [The Man I Love] who usually loves all things spicy, and almost all kinds of pickles.

What do you think? Would you try it? There are a lot of variations on this flavor, so perhaps it would be better with more sweetness, more citrus.  I'm willing to give it another try from another palateria - would you?

An encomium

 "Encomium" is a fancy word that means an expression of praise, and generally it's used to refer to those blurbs you see printed on paperback books or in ads - often from notable people like authors or artists or the taste-makers of today.

Of course, family members tend to be proud of their loved-ones' work, regardless of the quality, and [The Man I Love] is no exception.

I've mentioned Los Angeles food critic Jonathan Gold several times in this blog. Mr. Gold is the only food critic to have received the Pulitzer Prize. [The Man I Love] has been trying to arrange a speaking engagement, and in the course of their correspondence, he linked to my post about the wonderful Huntington Park paleteria we visited last month, Los Alpes. 

Mr. Gold's comment? "Formidable. She visited my beloved [Los] Alpes. I haven't been as often since that great tortas place around the corner closed, but sometimes I dream about their raisin paletas. "

Yesterday I was honored to meet Mr. Gold in person, and thank him for his kind words. I asked him for permission to use his comment as an encomium and...he said yes!

And so....don't miss the latest post at Doves Today, a blog that explores fun, food, life and Los Angeles, praised by Pulitzer Prize winner Jonathan Gold as "formidable."

Blue magic

Just south of the intersection of Echo Park and Sunset Boulevards, against a low concrete wall in front of a city parking lot, you might see a blue umbrella and a cluster of people.

There's a lot of street food sold in this neighborhood. On the southeast corner of Sunset and Echo Park, someone displays whole fruit stacked on milk crates on the sidewalk. On the northwest corner, across Sunset, a cart displays cut fruit, and a woman sells tostadas.

If you go around the corner on Logan Street, beneath the dense shade of fig trees, there's a taco trailer - not a truck, a trailer pulled by a full-size pickup - and people sit on upturned milk crates to eat.

But go through the parking lot, past the mural of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and head for the blue umbrella.

Two vendors set up shop here. One is a man cooking bacon dogs on a grill made out of a supermarket shopping cart. The other vendor is the reason we're here.

She wears a ball cap and an apron. She reaches into a plastic tub for a handful of blue-corn masa, and pats it between her hands into a flattened oval, then lays it on the hot propane-fired comal before her. She waits while it sputters lightly, then, using her fingers, she deftly flips it over to the other side. She sprinkles a handful of white Oaxacan cheese onto the seared dough, and then adds a spoonful of filling.

The first time I came here, the waiting crowd included three young men, and I wasn't sure where the line ended. One guy had a tiny terrier zipped into his sweatshirt. The dog was so cute I asked if I could take his picture, and what his name was.

"Tinker," he said. The little dog looked at me with bright eyes. A little kid came over to pet the dog.

The cocinera looked inquiringly at me. "What kind of fillings do you have?" I asked her.

"Pollo, flor de calabaza, mushroom, chorizo, chicharrones...."

That day I ordered two, one with squash blossoms and one with chorizo.

You can see them cooking here - the folded-over one has the chorizo and potato filling; the open-faced one has the squash blossom vegetable filling. After the cook patted them out and spread the filling, she served the guy with the dog his order.

"What kind did you get?" I asked the guy with the dog. "Huitlacoche," he said.

That was when I knew I had to come back here and bring [The Man I Love.]

If you don't already know what huitlacoche is, you might be taken aback at the most commonly heard translation. Huitlacoche, or Quitlachoche, is called "corn smut" in English. Not very nice sounding. It's a fungus that grows on corn, infecting the kernels, swelling and blackening them. It's considered a blight by American corn farmers, and until recently the USDA has actively tried to wipe it out on this side of the border.

But we human beings are peculiar - some of us find fungus delicious! Huitlacoche has a strong, woodsy taste like wild mushrooms, with a whiff of funk like blue cheese or even truffles.

Huitlacoche is used in Mexican cooking. In the American Southwest, the Zuni and Hopi people enjoy it. The Aztecs liked it so much they deliberately tried to induce it in corn. You can find it in some of the more high-end Mexican restaurants in Los Angeles, the ones celebrated in food magazines. The noted food writer James Beard tried to promote huitlacoche, even renaming it "Mexican truffles" in an attempt to make it sound more appetizing.

So now, on my second visit, I ask the cocinera for a quesadilla with huitlacoche. [The Man I Love] opts for the chorizo and potato.

While she cooks our quesadillas, people stop by and chat. Someone jokes about losing a job or starting a job - it's hard to follow the rapid Spanish and the laughter. A couple of ladies come by, eating paletas, or frozen fruit bars, and stay to talk. The cocinera uses her bare hands to fix the food, but when we pay, she puts a plastic bag on her hand to handle the money. Her assistant, a young man, takes the bills from her gloved hand and makes our change. Our quesadillas cost us $3 each.

At the front of the cart, you can scoop up chopped onions and cilantro, pickled red onion, nopales, and choose from two salsas. Grab a napkin from the package tied on the cart, and buy a Coke from a tub full of ice by the side.

We take our paper plates into the parking lot, where the concrete base of a streetlight makes the perfect table to enjoy our quesadillas. The filling is very juicy, so I tip a little of the liquid on the ground so it won't make the tortilla soggy.

The huitlacoche is an almost alarming deep black color, but the filling is more of a mixture of vegetables; the huitlacoche with chopped onion and yellow corn kernels and probably some chile, too. By the time I'm done my mouth is tingling fiercely. As anticipated, the taste is delicious - earthy, funky and complex, the white Oaxacan cheese a perfect foil for it. Pickled nopales strips and some pickled red onion that gave a refreshing, crunchy contrast.

[The Man I Love] enjoys his papas and chorizo quesadilla. The red oil of the chile in the sausage permeates the soft potatoes, coloring them orange.

I'm standing in a parking lot, balancing a paper plate on the base of a streetlight, and having one of the most memorable culinary experiences of my life.

This is why I love living in Los Angeles.