A tangy, refreshing Colombian lulo juice, perfect for cooling off on hot afternoons!
There was a rhythm to summer when I was little. Not in the way school let out or in how the days stretched long — but in the way we cooled down.
In our home, summer meant sticky backs against plastic chairs, the whir of a standing fan moving humid air from one side of the room to the other, and the kitchen humming with my mother’s quiet determination to make something cold from whatever fruit we had left.
I remember lulada best from those long afternoons when the sun refused to move and the fan only blew warm air. My mother would sit on a stool by the kitchen sink with her elbows resting on the counter, a bowl of thawing frozen lulo pulp beside her.
I was usually somewhere nearby, sticky with sunscreen and mango sap, pretending to help but mostly waiting for the first taste.
She didn’t fully blend the lulo. She pulsed it just enough to break it up, but not so much that the texture disappeared. I’d watch as she poured in cold water, spooned in sugar, and reached for the old metal ice crusher I was never allowed to touch.
When she poured it over crushed ice, the juice was this perfect middle ground between slush and drink—tangy, grassy, a little wild, like biting into citrus and guava at once. She called it “lulada,” but to me, it was just summer.
Summer Afternoons, Lulo Juice in Hand
A few spoonfuls of sugar, always adjusted by taste, and then came the crushed ice. She’d hand me the spoon to stir, and I’d watch the color swirl from cloudy to emerald green. When she poured it into tall glasses and handed one to me, the condensation would bead instantly. That first sip? Cold. Tart. A little wild.
My mom used to say that lulos was a fruit you didn’t forget. And she was right. Years later, long after I’d moved and started my own family, the memory of that drink, the way it hit the back of your throat, how the sugar softened the sharpness, how it clung to the crushed ice — stayed with me.
Now, when the heat creeps into our apartment and my kids, Leo and Lin, start fidgeting from the stillness, I reach for the same routine. Sometimes it’s not lulo—not every grocery store stocks it. So I improvise. My lime watermelon juice was born out of one of those moments. I had half a watermelon, a few tired limes, and two sweaty toddlers. I pulsed them together, strained the juice, and served it over ice. It wasn’t lulada, but it was cold, fresh, and met the moment. They loved it. I did too.
There are days when I make juices like this without a juicer, using just a blender and a strainer. It felt empowering. You don’t need fancy equipment to make something good. You just need fruit, a bit of patience, and maybe a few memories to keep you company.
Lulada, when made properly, is never overly smooth. It’s meant to be rustic. Chunky. You stir it as you drink. You might catch a seed between your teeth. That’s part of the point. It’s not a drink that hides. It’s one that makes you pause, even for a minute, to cool off and taste.
What Is Lulada? A Drink with Texture & Tang
Unlike most juices, lulada isn’t blended smooth. It keeps a bit of the fruit’s pulp, giving it a texture somewhere between juice and compote. The lulo, a small, bright-orange fruit with a green, citrusy interior, is native to Colombia and Ecuador. Its flavor lands somewhere between lime and pineapple, and it has a slight herbal note that makes it unlike anything else.
In Colombia, lulada is more than just a drink, it’s a staple of hot afternoons and a frequent find in family kitchens and street stalls. Often made with frozen lulo pulp, it’s one of the few drinks where the pulp is the star. Sugar brings out the fruit’s tangy brightness, and crushed ice gives it the frosty edge that makes it ideal for the hottest days.
And just like I learned with other juices, whether it’s a watermelon lime refresher or an improvised blend from whatever’s in the fridge, you don’t need a lot to make something meaningful.
Sometimes, the best drinks come with a little texture, a little mess, and a lot of memory.
Ingredients
- Frozen Lulo Pulp – Lulo is tart, aromatic, and unlike anything else—somewhere between lime, kiwi, and guava. In our house, we used frozen pulp because fresh lulo was rare even back then. I still reach for the frozen kind today; it’s easy, consistent, and holds that signature tang. You’ll find it in Latin grocery stores or international aisles, look for “naranjilla pulp” as an alternative name.
- Sugar – A little sugar goes a long way here. Lulo is punchy—bright, sour, even grassy if it’s too raw. A few spoonfuls help mellow the edges without masking its personality. Just like my mom did, I always start with a bit, then adjust to taste. Some people prefer panela or honey, but for lulada, plain sugar keeps things sharp and familiar.
See the recipe card for full list and exact quantities.
This clean lulo fruit pulp only has fruit and vitamin C. No sugar, no additives!
How to Make Lulada (Colombian Lulo Juice)
This popular drink from Colombia is quick and easy, it comes together in just minutes and doesn’t require much. Just a blender, a strainer (if you like things smoother), and a hot day begging for something refreshing. Here’s how to make it:
Thaw the Lulo Pulp
Let the frozen lulo pulp sit on the counter for 10–15 minutes, just until it’s soft enough to scoop. It should still be frosty but no longer rock-solid, this helps it blend easily without over-processing.
Pulse the Juice
In a blender, combine the softened lulo pulp, cold water, and sugar. Pulse the mixture just a few times. Don’t fully blend, lulada should keep some texture. You’re looking for a slightly chunky, slushy consistency where bits of lulo are still visible.
Taste and Adjust
Give it a quick taste. Depending on the pulp or your personal preference, add more sugar as needed. It should be tart, sweet, and slightly grassy.
Pour and Garnish
Fill your glasses halfway (or more) with crushed ice. Pour the pulsed lulada mixture over the crushed ice. If you’d like, add a fresh mint sprig or a thin slice of lime to the rim for a bit of flair—it’s not traditional, but it makes every glass feel like a treat.
Stir and Serve
Give each glass a gentle stir with a spoon or straw. The lulo bits tend to settle at the bottom, and lulada is meant to be stirred as you go. Serve immediately while cold, tangy, and vibrant.
Storage
Lulada is at its best right after it’s made, icy, tangy, and full of that just-blended brightness. But if you happen to have leftovers, don’t worry—it holds up beautifully.
I usually pour any extra into a glass jar or lidded pitcher and keep it in the fridge. It will stay fresh for up to two days. Just know that the pulp may separate slightly as it sits.
Give it a good stir before serving, or even a quick shake if it’s stored in a bottle. The flavor deepens just a touch overnight, making it even more refreshing the next day—perfect for a quick afternoon cooldown when the heat starts to creep back in.
Sometimes, I’ll stash a few mint leaves or lime slices directly in the jar, so it infuses a little extra brightness as it chills.
Top Tips
Don’t Overblend – lulada isn’t meant to be a smooth juice. You want those little bits of lulo floating through, it's part of the experience. Overblending turns it into something else entirely.
Sweeten Last, Taste First – lulo can be punchy, especially if it’s really ripe or really tart. I always blend first, taste, then adjust the sugar. There’s no perfect amount, it depends on the fruit and your memory of how sweet summer used to taste.
Use Crushed Ice, Not Cubes – this one’s personal. Crushed ice gives lulada that slushy texture that made it feel like a treat when I was a kid. Cubes water it down too fast.
Recipe
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Colombian Lulo Juice Recipe
Ingredients
- 1 cup frozen lulo pulp slightly thawed for easy blending
- 2 cups cold water
- 3–4 tablespoon sugar or to taste
- Crushed ice for serving
- Fresh mint leaves optional, for garnish
- Lime slices optional, for garnish
Instructions
- Let the frozen lulo pulp sit at room temperature for about 10–15 minutes until it softens just enough to scoop and pulse easily.
- In a blender, add the softened lulo pulp, cold water, and 3 tablespoons of sugar. Pulse just a few times—this drink should be chunky, not fully smooth. You’re looking for slushy texture with little bits of pulp still floating through.
- Taste the mixture and add more sugar if needed. Lulo is naturally tart, so the sweetness can vary depending on your pulp and preference.
- Fill each glass halfway or more with crushed ice. Pour the pulsed lulo mixture over the ice.
- If you like, top each drink with a sprig of fresh mint or a slice of lime for extra brightness. Stir gently with a spoon or straw—lulada settles and is meant to be mixed as you sip.
- Lulada is best enjoyed fresh and icy. Serve right away while cold, tart, and textured.
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