Scoop Friday: El Rodeo – Fried Ice Cream
With Canadian wildfire smoke producing a haze evocative of the yellow filter trope from Breaking Bad and other media set in Mexico, this Scoop Friday, I decided to return to one of my favorite restaurants from my childhood: El Rodeo in Lemoyne.
Despite only ordering the gringo options of a hamburger or hot dog off the kids’ menu until I was twelve years old, I always adored the exotic vibe exuded by our local unpretentious Mexican restaurant’s intimate yet vibrant setting. By the time I gulped down my second bottle of lime Jarritos with a radioactive green hue, I became enthralled by the colorful booths, chairs, and dividers exhibiting a variety of striking interpretations of cacti, flowers, suns, moons, toucans, and landscapes. However, as I stepped into the dim eatery for the first time in a decade, I suddenly stopped and stood aghast as I surveyed the aftermath of this special place’s recent transformation. Apparently, a horse girl with a fondness for the color brown was hired to update the interior’s design.
No longer was the aforementioned furniture adorned with vivid representations of tropical animals or celestial bodies, but instead scenes of vaqueros lassoing bulls and portraits of normal-colored horses. I acknowledged that the new décor better aligned with El Rodeo’s namesake and intense logo scene of a cowboy contorting the neck of an ensnared steer than before, but my simple yet sentimental mind inundated with nostalgia, merely wished they made the minimal effort to color the soon-to-be-butchered bovines blue.
Is this asking for too much?
Adding to my dismay, I noticed the front counter where customers would pay their bill and kids would plead to their parents for change to choose from an eclectic assortment of cheap stale candy ranging from Laffy Taffy to Double Bubble to your least favorite Jolly Rancher flavors in order to properly cap off the night was now limited to just York Peppermint Patties and a gumball machine. The host directed me to a walnut and burgundy-shaded booth that made my pale complexion stand out more easily. As I sat down, I discovered that I would be dining with an equine trio who positioned themselves on the other side’s booth back. While I considered heading to a different Mexican chain restaurant in the area, I acquiesced to my situation as I recalled change is inevitable and the future sucks.
Look how they massacred my boy!
Without glancing at the menu or requesting a round of complimentary chips and salsa to spoil my Scoop Friday supper, I informed my host-turned server of my order fried ice cream (or as Emilio Dog, who earned a solid B in 8th Grade Spanish, might call it, Helado Frito) topped with chocolate sauce. I didn’t have enough time to comprehend the topic of the Telemundo midday talk show playing on the corner television before my frozen treat was swiftly delivered to me.
I looked forward to trying fried ice cream for the first time ever, however, like an incompetent burglar, I struggled initially to break into my target. Eventually, I found a vulnerable point of entry and made enough progress to grab a spoonful. At first, I was caught off guard by the untraditional surrounding layer’s texture that reminded me of a flaky donut. After a couple more bites, this signature Mexican restaurant dessert started to grow on me. All of the sugary supporting cast in the rainbow sprinkles, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and the additional sugar added to the outside fried layer amplified the flavor. Although, the star of the show, the vanilla scoop, ultimately fell short of my expectations. I anticipated its taste to be a bit off given that it’s frozen at a colder temperature than normal to survive the transient frying process, but as a vanilla appreciator, the final product, which cost $6.35, tasted more like a generic vanilla cup one could buy in bulk for less at Walmart. Nevertheless, subpar ice cream is still more scrumptious than most other “superpar” foods and I devoured the remainder of my treat expeditiously.