Las Palomas grocery opens Columbia to the world

Hidden at the corner of 100th Street and Broadway, Las Palomas offers an astounding array of Mexican groceries for students looking to expand their snacking options. For non-Spanish speakers, Las Palomas might seem intimidating or otherworldly. But rest assured that, once sequestered safely within this tiny grocery store, even those completely uninitiated to the subtleties of Mexican cuisine will find conventional flavors wrapped in unfamiliar packaging.

Chicharrones, or fried pork rinds, oftentimes appear in gas stations and convenience stores, puffy and corrosively salty. While Las Palomas offers a number of varieties, the best come from El Puerquito de Oro. Flat and crispy, the enormous curling slices of pig skin sparkle with heady pork flavor. Moreover, the plastic package proudly—and perhaps somewhat snarkily—advertises only one percent salt, certainly an improvement over the regular supermarket brands.

After polishing off a whole half-pound bag of chicharrones, the average procrastinating student will develop a powerful thirst. Fortunately, a glass case squeezed onto one wall contains a wide selection of traditional beverages. Try a Jarritos Tamarind drink, dull orange and lightly sparkling, a refreshingly sweet soda perfect for unseasonably warm winter days. Combining tangy fruit flavors with a measured sugary kick, Jarritos Tamarind superbly cleanses the palate of residual chicharrones grease.

In addition, Las Palomas carries staples of Mexican cooking difficult to locate in mainstream stores. Bins of black beans, tomatillos, and peanuts rest underneath shelves of canned nopalitos, cactus pads and innumerable prepared salsas. Of course, chilis of all kinds abound too—pulla and guajillo peppers allow skilled cooks to introduce dazzling licorice and dried fruit flavors, along with an appropriate level of heat, into the most mundane dishes.

On Saturdays and Sundays, Las Palomas offers hot prepared foods at unbeatable prices. Trekking down to 100th Street seems worthwhile when barbecued goat, unbeatably tender and fragrant, awaits. Tamales, unbelievably cheap, tempt less adventurous palates.

Ultimately, Las Palomas represents a dying breed, those small neighborhood grocery stores that peddle specialized products to a specialized clientele. Stopping by on an extended study break, however, helps to keep neighborhood gems like Las Palomas alive.