The next stop: La Michoacán de Lexington –La Paletería y Nievería! That’s every ice cream lover’s dream — a popsicle and ice cream shop in English!
This little place is located right next to Gran Tako, famous in class for the cutting of the El Pastor outside, the Friday night karaoke where one man walks around and hogs the mic, and incredible food. All decked out in pink, this place was a good reason to freak out!
If there’s one thing I love, it would be fresh fruit and vegetables. Honestly.. That’s no lie. I am that girl that doesn’t have to be reminded to “eat her veggies” because she’d rather be eating some carrots and cucumber instead of a double fudge brownie and cupcakes doused in blue icing that makes your entire mouth lose any shade of pink. Don’t judge; I am who I am. All that to say, I still can still inhale a cupcake in one second, but my palate just seems to prefer fruits and veggies. Weird, eh?
It would be an immense understatement to say that I was exhilarated to get a Mexican popsicle made out of FRESH FRUIT. GAH. I could cry. It’s three of my favorite things in one: popsicles, Mexico, and fresh fruit.
When I walked into this place, I was a little kid in a candy store. I was apalled by all of the options. All of the color drew me in. There was so much. There was ice cream, fruity drinks, milk-based popsicle, water-based popsicles, snacks, EVERYTHING. This was the mothership of them all.
I just kept saying over and over and over again to Jenna, “I’m literally going to come here every.single.day this summer!!! Seriously!! This place is incredible!!!” For someone only knowing me less than a semester, she handled my crazy way too well. Not only could she handle it, she was on my level of crazy and excitement too. We were freaking out together and absolutely could not believe the sight before us.
We paced up and down the tiny aisle of windows of ice cream trying to make a decision. Every person in the class seemed dumb-founded as if their faces were saying, “Where do I even begin?!”
I had trouble making up my mind, as usual. I couldn’t even come close to narrowing it down. I kept going back and forth between mango or watermelon. I fixed my eyes on the watermelon; that was the one. The man handed it to me and despite the fact that there was a frozen bar in my hand, I was internally melting. I couldn’t wait to try it.
Then, suddenly, as my eyes shifted across the menu full of flavors, I saw it..
CUCUMBER WITH CHILE. What?!?! I knew I wanted to try it.
“You love cucumbers, Casey. You should trade it in. But.. but.. there’s chile powder on it.. It could be too spicy! Ugh, what to do, what to do,” I thought. I traded the watermelon in for the cucumber. I peeled the plastic wrap off and took a taste.
Now remember, I love vegetables, especially cucumbers. But this.. this was something from the underworld. There was nothing about this popsicle that settled well with me. What was I thinking? A cucumber popsicle?! It tasted salty. No popsicle was ever meant to taste salty. I was disappointed. Everyone seemed to be loving theirs. I knew I should have gotten a fruity one.
Once I had had too much, I threw it out. I felt bad because I really wanted to like it, but I just couldn’t. I knew I wanted one that I enjoyed, so I decided to buy a different one. This time it was strawberries and cream. The man working seemed confused when I asked him for a second, as if he had been keeping track of my cucumber popsicle and it had magically disappeared, which it
I waited anxiously for approval of my debit card so I could eat the popsicle in all of its fullness, but waiting seemed like a million years.
For the second time I peeled the plastic wrap away and didn’t even look back. That popsicle was the smallest piece of creamy, fruity, smooth perfection I had ever met. I am at a loss of words describing the emotions that I experienced. We headed out to the van since the majority of my classmates were finished. But since I went back for “seconds”, I finished in the van. I could get over the fact that it tasted like a strawberry milkshake on a stick. I contemplated buying 10 and storing them in my freezer at home, but realized they would most likely melt on the bus ride back.
I wiped my face while giggling at trying to strategically finish the popsicle without it landing on the floor of the bus. Unfortunately, I didn’t succeed, but, fortunately, I made it onto the napkin, so no messes were made. The only messes that were made were the napkin looking like a someone had just cleaned up Pepto Bismol and my emotions from leaving a place that I gave a part of my heart to.