| rev:text | 	Maybe my taste in men has helped me feel less awkward in situations or restaurants like this. Having once had a Hispanic boyfriend allows you to escape the awkwardness of being the token Asian in an establishment, but when you end at Las Pupusas with your Asian brother, the discomfort is inescapable - in fact, it is exponentially multiplied. With the intrigue of pupusas lingering, the both of us were willing to endure the uneasiness. We sat down - ordered a plate of plantains and three pupusas - mix, cheese and pork.
The Mexicans have tortas, the Venezuelans have arepas, the Salvadoreans have pupusas. All of these things have some similarities: take some dough, throw in either cheese, meat or both of these things, and you're done! But mind you, even though these are only $1.75, they are huge. When they came out, we were stunned. Eating them, the flavor is just as big the pupusa itself. The mix with beans and cheese was the best in its simplicity. The cheese was another favorite with that salty cheese that oozed out and made a crust. The pork was not our favorite - its texture grounded to a pulp and flavor just being 'meh'. Throw on some of the slaw they give you, and one pupusa could be a meal in it of itself. The plantains, on the other hand, were also just as good. Perfectly fried up, fresh, and teetering between sweet and savory - they were my first plate of plantains and certainly not my last.
Consider me a Hispanic food hipster, but as I grow older, I am now branching out into these lesser-hyped, obscure cuisines. It's places like this that perpetuate my interest and hunger to try the new and unknown. While initially uncomfortable, I now take the amount of discomfort to directly correlate to the deliciousness of a place - in this case, it's damn good. |