As he walked back out into the cobblestone streets, the first bite of a —a delicate milk and egg sweet—melted on his tongue. It was more than sugar; it was the taste of the Andes, preserved in a paper bag.

"For a gift?" the shopkeeper asked, wrapping his haul in brown paper tied with twine. "For a memory," Mateo replied.

The wooden floorboards of "Dulces de la Sierra" creaked as Mateo stepped inside, escaping the cool mist of the Quito afternoon. He wasn't just looking for a snack; he was on a mission to find the flavors of his grandmother’s childhood stories.

Next, he pointed to the wafers, their pink packaging a nostalgic staple for every Ecuadorian kid. He added a few Tangos to his pile—biscuits topped with cream and drenched in chocolate—knowing the snap of the chocolate coating was addictive.