Like a Kid in a Mexican Candy Store
There are 23 reasons I avoid the Mexican grocery store when my inner pig-tailed child is having a craving: $23 of tangy, chile-spiked, salty and only occasionally sweet Mexican candy overflowing from my shopping basket as my inner child does a twirl in her patent leather Mary Janes. Let's just hope my 30-something stomach can keep up with her.
Minerva Orduno Rincon Leave the chayote for another trip, the good stuff is down below.
Take a walk into Pro's Ranch Market on 16th Street and Roosevelt, head to the produce section, and look down or you'll miss all the good stuff. Candy in the produce section? Why, yes. Not like Mexican candy isn't loaded with sugar, but with predominant flavors of tamarindo, mango, and coconut, why not let them share shelf space? Do also understand that when it comes to Pulparindos, Pelones and Bubu Lubus, I turn a big blind brown eye to food additives. Sodium Benzoate? Red No. 40? I see nothing.
Don Draper said it best: Nostalgia is a more powerful bond than an additive-free organic lifestyle. Or something of that sort.
Minerva Orduno Rincon The sweets: chocolate-covered marshmallows, hazelnut, and vanilla creams. The fruits: chile-covered mango lollipop.
The search is on for the sweets first: Bubu Lulus and Paleta Payaso. Dark chocolate-covered fluffy marshmallow, the first with a delicious strawberry jam filling, the second with a gumdrop clown face. For bonus points, take one of the clowny suckers for a brief walk outside in the summertime, pop it in the freezer for a few and unveil a demon clown face, as the gumdrops have shifted in the molten chocolate. Then a box of Duvalin, hazelnut and vanilla creams, each serving accompanied with a convenient little spoon for swirling or carefully eating them separately. And Nutella just came out with those individual servings. Please.