Outside of the Wells Fargo Bank on 24th and Central Avenue, Maria, who chose not to disclose her last name for safety reasons, sells cevichochos out of her street cart to other Ecuadorians and Northeast neighbors who frequent the bank.
Cevichochos, or ceviche dechochos, are an Ecuadorian street food made of Andean beans marinated with fresh lime or lemon juice, tomatoes, onions, cilantro and tomato sauce over a bed of popcorn and plantain chips. The dish is often a vegetarian take on ceviche, but Maria also offers a white fish topping.
Maria is one of many street vendors or street laborers originally from Ecuador who have increasingly popped up on streets across Minneapolis.
Maria has lived in Minnesota for three years and has been vending in Northeast for one. “I couldn’t find a job, and the wages were very low,” she said in Spanish. This quote was translated by the reporter.
She estimates making about $150 a day, and her two kids are usually with her. Previous reporting in the Northeaster stated that accessible childcare is a primary barrier to immigrant women’s employment.
Ordinance for entrepreneurs
The increase in vendors is partially due to the Sidewalk Street Cart ordinance, which streamlines the application process and opens up new areas to vendors. Minneapolis City Council Member Jason Chavez (Ward 9) worked with City Council Member Aurin Chowdhury (Ward 12) on the ordinance. Michael Rainville (Ward 3) backed this, and it passed in April 2026.
According to Street Vendor Entrepreneur Support and Compliance Program data provided by Chavez, as of late 2025, 42 participants took the ServSafe exam — a food-safety certification program. Thirty passed. Because the ordinance recently went into effect, numbers on its success were not available at time of reporting.
Tension in business corridor
Some Ecuadorian business owners are opposed to the vendors’ practices. Jorge Sanchez, who owns Panaderia Ecuatoriana Charito, 2409 Central Ave. NE, voiced some discomfort. “I don’t agree (with them) at all,” he said. “We have to pay a lot of taxes. We have to pay a lot of employees in our business and (we) have competition on the streets. I don’t think that’s fair for us.”
There is a similar tension between the established restaurant owners in the area and newer businesses in the area.
Rodrigo Morocho, the manager of Sabor Cuencano, reflected on his experience with owners in the area. “The people (who) do the business around here… They say, ‘Okay, so I’m the best. I have more money, et cetera.’ They say ‘No, I don’t want to work with you.’”
Future of the ethnic enclave
The influx of businesses underlines Northeast’s characterization as an ethnic enclave, an area with a high concentration of individuals from a certain ethnic background. These areas are culturally distinct and allow for minority communities to maintain ways of life largely separate from those of the larger communities that surround them.
When Morocho moved to Northeast in 2010, he recalls only three businesses: Sabor Latino, Chimborazo and a supermarket. Post-pandemic there are over a dozen Ecuadorian-specific restaurants, grocery stores and businesses. Rodrigo estimates about 90% of his customers are Ecuadorian.
Sanchez owns the Northeast franchise of his parents’ bakery Panaderia Ecuatoriana Charito, which has been operating for 10 years on Central. His mother opened the bakery, and their family has seen a “notable increase” in the area’s Ecuadorian presence.
Seeking compassion
Claudia Lainez directs the Workers Center at Comunidades Organizando el Poder y la Acción Latina (COPAL), an organization dedicated to improving Latine familes’ quality of life. Lainez hopes for more empathy towards immigrants. “I feel like some people do know what’s going on in other places,” she said. “But others don’t, and they feel overwhelmed with the amount of people that are on the streets — why are they selling fruits, or why are they doing these and that?” She hopes that helping people “know what they’re going through… will be able to (give) a different perspective (to) others.”
Looking forward
The street cart ordinance is just one example of government support — not just for Maria on Central Avenue, but for Ecuadorian immigrants citywide. Organizations like COPAL and neighbors within the area continue to advocate for Temporary Protective Status for asylum seekers.
But even without that designation, the people within Little Ecuador remain an enduring part of the neighborhood’s economy.