A Celebration of Piñata-Flavored Ice Cream With Oakland’s De La Creamery
On the politics of ice cream and why we need Chicana-made flavors more than ever.
On the politics of ice cream and why we need Chicana-made flavors more than ever.
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On the politics of ice cream and why we need Chicana-made flavors more than ever.
The first time I encountered De La Creamery (DLC) was in Berkeley, on a bustling weekend afternoon, at the kind of food market that makes you crave a cool, sugary boost to cut through the fatty salts you’ve carouseled through. And then bam, it hit me in my mouth: piñata-flavored ice cream.
One thing about being Mexican American is that we exist in a constant state of transformative wonder. We like to break shit (in a loving way), take it apart, reinvent and remix, gather the pieces, consume, celebrate, repeat. The art of making a piñata is, in itself, a delicate craft of precision, assemblage, flamboyant imagination, and taking a swing at what’s directly in front of you. There’s a kind of boldness, if not aggressive “watch me do this” attitude to it all. That’s just how it goes when you’re a California-raised Chicanx.



De La Creamery owner Stephanie De La Cruz makes a double scoop ice cream cone. (Estefany Gonzalez/COYOTE Media Collective)
So when you take that and put it into a scoop of ice cream as a piñata, it can feel like a sort of flavorful, soul-splitting rebirth. Think American “birthday cake,” but packed with generous chunks of assorted candies and topped with more sprinkles.
Stephanie De La Cruz is the one to thank for that. A culinary artist and former audio engineer who began experimenting with ice cream flavors in her Oakland home in 2019, she made the jump into being a full-time ice creamer during the pandemic, and hasn’t stopped exploring the science of rearranging taste buds since.
“I always leave space for the new flavors that I think of right before I fall asleep,” she says. “And the farmers always provide me with amazing seasonal produce.”
In the fall, she slung her take on Champurrado (a popular Mexican beverage made from a chocolate and corn base) that used Bolita Masa’s Mexican landrace maíz. There was also Pumpkin Piñata, a pumpkin spice ice cream with white chocolate blondie chunks and a chewy caramel swirl. Currently, ice cream enthusiasts can grab pints of her winter creations: Vegan Coconut Chai, Chocolate Peppermint Oreo, and Reindeer Games — a vegan peanut butter ice cream with sprinkles and crushed Oreos.
In honor of her fifth year anniversary as a popular Bay Area pop-up, we spoke with the ice cream oracle about honoring her community, resisting ICE, and how far she’s willing to go when she’s craving helado (spoiler: it’s Southern California).

Congratulations on five years of making hella good ice cream in the Bay! What’s the most unexpected thing you’ve realized through it all?
Feeding our community has made me more caring. Feeding people is nourishment and I take that seriously. De La Creamery has made me more community-focused. I have such a sense of purpose when I’m with community members, supporting local businesses or someone's dream, benefiting our city, appreciating someone's craft. Since I started DLC, I see the community so much more now. I'm more thoughtful, kind, and understanding. DLC is always made with thoughtfulness and intention.
What does “ice cream for the community” represent for you, particularly in these times of ongoing ICE raids and increased xenophobia?
“Ice cream for the community” means creating a space of resistance and belonging… I thought of that tagline one day and haven’t let it go because it captures how food can be an act of defiance and love. DLC is for people who can taste the love we put into it — because their hearts are ready to receive it. Even though we're being told we're not the majority, we actually are, overwhelmingly. Our rotating flavors are made with intention: low allergens, usually gluten-free, and always with a vegan option because inclusivity isn't just a word, it's how we operate.

I love when our menu connects multiple cultures at once, or when someone who's not Mexican feels seen by what we serve. I can hear it in their voices and see it on their faces. This is political: Every flavor is a statement that we all belong here. Our “Chinga La Migra” sign at pop-ups gets so many compliments. We are in support of Free Palestine, and advocate for Queer and Trans rights because those people are our community. We're here to have each other's backs. Mi helado es tu helado, ya know?
What initially drew you to open De La Creamery in 2020, and what were some of the struggles in getting it off the ground at the time?
I was drawn to open DLC because I wanted to bring authentic Mexican ice cream flavors to my community and recreate childhood memories... When the pandemic hit, for the first time in my adult life, I could do something to indulge creatively.
While I didn't have formal food industry experience, I was determined to learn every aspect of the business. Coming from outside the industry meant I had to be resourceful and build my knowledge from the ground up. I strategically sought out resources, starting with business courses at Renaissance [Entrepreneurship] Center where I learned to write a business plan and navigate permits. Then, joining La Cocina expanded my network through pop-ups and industry connections. Meeting Oscar from Tacos Oscar became the next pivotal mentorship that accelerated my growth.


Customers order and enjoy ice cream at De La Creamery's pop up outside of Tacos Oscar. (Estefany Gonzalez/COYOTE Media Collective)
Who are some ice cream makers who have inspired your approach?
Erin Lang from Garden Creamery is my girl. She and her partner Donnie Capozzi are so talented and kind. They put in a lot of work to make incredible ice cream and support local farmers. I know what they do is not easy, but they make it look so dreamy. I love to message Erin when I’m nervous to try something unconventional. She always tells me to keep pushing and I always listen. Adrienne Borlongan, the owner of Wanderlust Creamery in Los Angeles, has also been an inspiration to me in recent years. Seeing her brand that is all culturally inspired grow is beautiful and what I want for DLC.
One thing that sets you apart is the way you infuse your flavors with Mexican-American flavors and ingredients. For those who aren’t familiar with your creamery, what are some of the more memorable scoops that you’re proudest of making, where you’re like “damn, no one else is doing this?”
I have so many memorable flavors that I’m proud of. Horchata was the start of it all. Café de Olla still catches people. Elote with Habanero Lime Jam is our top seller every summer and gets folks to become big fans. Spicy Mole is always what stops people in their tracks. Ice Cream Nachos, too, a flavor which is made with actual tortilla chips, and 16-hour Dulce de Leche made with our own sweetened condensed milk. Most recently, Jimmy Nardello, which is like if a jalapeño popper walked into a dessert bar. Those are some of my favorites.

As a former audio engineer, what song would best represent the vibe of your creamery, and why?
I have so many playlists for DLC. As someone who used to work in audio, I need music to match the vibe. The official song of DLC should be De La Soul’s “Me Myself and I.” I laugh and say, “Me Myself and Ice Cream.” A lot of people ask if we’re named after the group. But no, it’s just a play on my last name. What an amazing thought, though. I embrace that connection.
What allowed you to not only survive, but to thrive during and since the pandemic? That’s when I first came across your creamery and I’ve often bumped into you at tons of outdoor events, with lines of people waiting to get a scoop.
We thrived because the pandemic pushed everything outdoors, which was our model... During isolation, people were craving community connection, and our pop-ups became gathering points where folks could safely come together over ice cream. What has really been our biggest win is the amount of people we’ve been able to meet. Since we’ve traveled so much, we’ve met folks from all neighborhoods and crowds [in the Bay]... It makes me really happy when customers can walk to us. That’s what I’m most proud of. It’s important to me to be as inclusive as possible when serving.




De La Creamery owner Stephanie De La Cruz makes an ice cream sundae. (Estefany Gonzalez/COYOTE Media Collective)
What have you enjoyed about running De La Creamery as a roving pop-up for the past half decade, and in what ways is being a pop-up actually an advantage that allows you to fully express your most creative food ideas?
Part of moving around so much has helped me grow as a creative. I’ve worked in so many facilities, become friends with staff, and worked alongside them in their kitchens. I see how their operations are run, I can ask questions, learn what works and what doesn't. Even more amazing, I’ve been able to try so many foods and drinks. I’m so lucky to have tasted the most delicious food from the most talented chefs around. Not only do they feed me, they teach me from their years of experience introducing me to foods and ingredients that are meaningful to them.
In an ideal world, what do the next five years look like for De La Creamery?
In my dreams, DLC takes over Hoppers Chocolate, that beautiful pink mansion next to Burdell in Temescal. We make everything in-house and have different departments to make desserts. I hope DLC can represent more cultures as we grow, and that everyone’s experience will play a part in our team. I hope DLC grows to employ creatives who are often skipped over in the workplace: Women, Black, brown, queer, awkward, fat. That’s who I always was. I see that in my customers and those who work with me now. We’re often skipped over and have all the potential when supported and uplifted.
De La Creamery can be found every Tuesday at South Berkeley Farmers Market (Adeline St. &, 63rd St., Berkeley) from 2-6:30 pm.; every Sunday at Tacos Oscar (420 40th St., Oakland) from 5- 9pm.; and daily at Tahona Mercado for pints.
Alan Chazaro is a traveling Bay Area dad and writer currently based in Veracruz, Mexico. His forthcoming poetry collection, These Spaceships Weren't Built For Us, will be published with Tia Chucha Press in 2026.
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