Big Town Big Dreams
Stories about immigrant New Yorkers who make this town the great place it is
For a textbook definition of family, travel to Ozone Park, Queens.
Walk beneath the elevated train tracks until you spot a squat corner factory bearing the moniker "Mamita's Ices" and a painting of a smiling woman sporting upswept hair.
Step inside, and shaved-bald Javier Morel could greet you. His mustached dad, Máximo, might shake your hand. Morel's petite sister Nieve could toss you a smile - right before you bump into a gaggle of cousins.
"More than 20 family members work here," says the jovial Javier Morel, 36, a married dad of one son who dwells in Long Island. "Luckily, we all get along very well."
Morel and his clan operate Mamita's Ices - named after their grandmother, with the painting modeled after Morel's mom - New York's premier purveyor of milk and water-based Dominican-style ices.
On sweltering summer days, kids and adults alike cool down with creamy coconut, ambrosial passion fruit and sweet raspberry ices.
"I used to eat five raspberry ices a day," recalls Morel, the second youngest of eight siblings - four boys, four girls. "My sister would be like, 'You're going to get sick, eating so many.' "
It's a miracle the Morels ever manufactured a single ice. In the mid-1980s, the Morels were living in economically challenged Santiago in the Dominican Republic. To change the family's fortune, dad Máximo immigrated to New York City
"He was a businessman, but it was harder and harder for him to make a living [in Santiago]. In New York City, there's so much opportunity," Morel says.
After settling in Ozone Park, in 1990, he requested that Javier and one brother transplant to the city. "We came to go to school," Morel says, but monetary need forced him into trucking.
"Every day I drove a meat truck from Brooklyn to the Bronx. It was very nasty, especially first thing in the morning. And the pay was nothing," Morel says.
But he had his family. One by one, his seven siblings came to Queens.
"We were lucky to be together," he says. Soon enough, they'd be working together. In 2001, Morel's sister Nieve, with just a few pots and one freezer, started making and freezing ices in her home kitchen. The frozen treats were a hit.
"People who move to America want to eat food from home," Morel explains of the ices' popularity. "And at the time, no one was making Dominican-style ices."
Sensing a niche, the Morels spent their spare time manufacturing and selling ices. Initially, their distribution method was very rudimentary. "We'd pack up the ices in coolers like you'd take to the beach," Morel recalls, "and sell 50 here, 30 there, 40 there. It wasn't the most efficient process." Gradually, orders grew. Soon, the home kitchen was operating at full capacity. So, in 2005, the family expanded into a former Ozone Park nightclub. Bye-bye, truck driving. Hello, long, grueling hours.
From mixing raw ingredients to freezing the ices, the process takes five arduous hours. And everyone chips in equally.
"We're all bosses," Morel says, "so we share all the duties. One day, my dad might be packing the ices. Another day, I'll be unloading boxes."
Which family member gets stuck peeling the sweet potatoes for the batata ice?
"We hire people to do that," Morel says, laughing.
What's no joke is the business' success.
O n an average day, the factory churns out 75,000 ices, many traveling to burgeoning Hispanic populations in Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Florida and Washington, D.C.
"Once we see a bodega in a town, we know we have to get our ices there," Morel explains.
Come summertime, Mamita's Ices are everywhere. The production ratchets up to 100,000 ices a day, and no one dares take a vacation.
"In this business, you must be ready the second the weather turns warm. When it's 95 degrees out, we're working seven days a week," Morel says.
Isn't it maddening to see your family every minute?
Not at all, says sister Nieve. "Working with your family means you can trust everybody. No one's ever late, and you can't make up excuses or tell your family lies."
But even the strongest family bond can't alter one immutable fact about ices: "We lose 70% of the sales during the wintertime," Morel says, "so we must save, save, save during the summertime."
Though Mamita's has survived slow winters, one weak summer could spell doom. The family is expanding its line into drinkable yogurt and, eventually, fruit juices and cheese. These are difficult times for expansion.
"Any ingredient we bought for $1 now costs us $3," Morel laments "Though some companies will cut corners and use cheaper ingredients, we keep our standards high" - and hope for good weather.
"When it's raining, it's a bad day," Morel says. "But when the sun's shining, that's a good day for our family."
Do you know an immigrant New Yorker who achieved his or her dream in our great city? E-mail Maite Junco at BigTown@nydailynews.com
