[dropcap size=big]T[/dropcap]he first display case you see when you walk into Tocumbo Ice Cream in Anaheim is the paletas. The myriad of flavors and colors all stacked up and laid out flat in front of you, and without fail, different colors catch my eye every time. The deep orange-yellow of the rompope. Or maybe the bright green of the limón. Oooh, and you can’t forget the yellow and red-orange swirls of the mango chamoy.
If you’re lucky and see it, it’s an absolute must-buy; you’ll see the blood-red color of their pitaya paleta. It’s all like an edible, way tastier version of the light display from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Make your way around the corner, and you see the ice creams: Guayaba. Guanabana. Maracuya. Chongos. As Elsa Covarrubias of Anaheim, a longtime customer of Tocumbo, calls it, “It’s like an ice cream United Nations gathering behind that counter.”
Now, I know what you’re thinking. It’s just ice cream. You can just go to a La Michoacana with their rows and rows of flavors, candy, and fruit and get the same thing. It’s not that big of a deal.
Well, there are hundreds, maybe even thousands of various diaspora of regions and cities across Latin America that would disagree with you.