Ice cream nation: Does Ecuador take the cherry?
Ice cream is the national food in the Andean nation of Ecuador. Ecuadorians say they like their creamsicles, soft-serves, and sorbets more than anyone.
Ice cream is the national food in the Andean nation of Ecuador. Ecuadorians say they like their creamsicles, soft-serves, and sorbets more than anyone.
Everyone loves ice cream. But Ecuadorians, particularly in Andean cities, are convinced they love it more than anywhere else. There are art exhibits made about it, a monument dedicated to it, no celebration is considered complete without it, and it鈥檚 everywhere 鈥 even early on a weekday morning.聽聽
From colorfully layered creamsicles sold informally out of travel coolers to perfectly swirled soft-serve to the traditional sorbet-like helado de paila, the capital鈥檚 historic center is a bastion of cool, creamy treats.
鈥淚 eat ice cream every single day,鈥 says Javier Lasluisa, a chef and professor of culinary arts at the Universidad de Las Amricas in Quito. 鈥淚t鈥檚 an off day if I don鈥檛 at least taste it.鈥 His father and grandfather were both 鈥渋ce cream men,鈥 he says, making and selling the treat. And he and his wife recently started developing recipes for their own ice cream brand. He acknowledges it may not be daily fare for all Ecuadorians, but it鈥檚 a pillar at any special event or festival in the Andean zone of the nation.
鈥淲e are a country that values our traditions, and ice cream is a part of that,鈥 he says.
Down a steep slope from the historic center鈥檚 Independence Square is a creamy-yellow building that for the past 165 years has housed the San Agust铆n ice cream parlor. In a back room, up narrow stone steps, Joel Basurto stirs fresh coconut pulp and milk in a copper dish set atop a rough pile of ice and rock-salt, which are inside yet another copper container. After about 15 minutes of mixing round and round by hand, it slowly starts to solidify into the local treat,聽helado de paila. Small pieces of fresh coconut punctuate the thick, chilled dessert.
鈥淵oung or old, rain or shine, day or night, for Quite帽os it鈥檚 always a good time for ice cream,鈥 says manager Javier Mu帽iz. The cashier, dressed up in purple monk鈥檚 robes, says he sells scores of cones a day 鈥 not counting dine-in customers. Aside from the form in which the ice cream is made, part of what makes it so special are fresh local fruits like the taxo, also known as a banana passion fruit, or cherimoya, a custard apple.
No celebration without ice cream
Local legend has it that Ang茅l Lozado鈥檚 great-great-great-great grandmother Rosalia Su谩rez 鈥渋nvented鈥 this style of ice cream in Ecuador. Living in the north-central city of Ibarra at the foot of the formerly snow-covered Imbabura volcano, she is said to have used ice from the surrounding mountains to create her fruity concoctions.
Today, most of the glaciers are long gone, but Mr. Lozado carries on the tradition by running Helados de Paila Fifth Generation Rosalia Su谩rez. Five generations later, he acknowledges that he has a lot of extended family running their own ice cream operations, big and small. And although he has moved toward a more industrialized approach to ice cream production, he says he still rents his services making the copper-pot traditional version for weddings and parties.聽 聽
鈥淥ne can function without ice cream, but a celebration doesn鈥檛 feel complete without it,鈥 Mr. Lozado says. 鈥淭he tradition of eating ice cream is in many ways kept alive by making it the old-fashioned way,鈥 he says.
There is a permanent monument portraying a layered ice cream at the entrance to the town of Salcedo, about two hours south of Quito, and temporary art exhibits pay homage to the goody here as well.
Martina Mi帽o P茅rez, an Ecuadorian visual artist and cook, has organized several interactive art projects that revolve around ice cream, taste, and memory. The idea was sparked, in part, by memories of a childhood birthday party and how she can feel transported back to that moment and her mother鈥檚 homemade ice cream when eating lemon-flavored sweets.聽聽
One of her works, exhibited at Quito鈥檚聽contemporary art museum in 2020, consisted of six ice cream flavors that were meant to reflect different shared experiences in the museum鈥檚 neighborhood of San Juan. There was the bittersweet flavor of one ice cream meant to encapsulate the feelings of being a woman social organizer; another had an acidic base with some subtle heat, meant to represent the work of trying to make ends meet during the pandemic. The exhibit built bridges between the community and the museum by sending an ice cream cart out into the streets with these edible works of art.
鈥淚ce cream is a good way to symbolize memory,鈥 she says. 鈥淢emory is never fully intact, it鈥檚 always incomplete. Frozen in time until it melts away.鈥
Back in the historic center, Jean, who arrived here from the Democratic Republic of Congo two years ago, crosses the street on crutches 鈥 with an ice cream cone held perilously in one already-full hand.
He says he rarely ate it back home. But since arriving in Quito? 鈥淚t鈥檚 everywhere you look,鈥 he says. 鈥淪ome days, you just need a little treat.鈥