
Let me start by saying that there is a special place in my heart for Salvadorean food in general and pupusas in particular. Hubby is Salvadorean, and he took me to a Salvadorean restaurant for pupusas on one of our first dates. Also, who doesn't like melted cheese surrounded by carbs? No one.
As we went in, we noticed that although the restaurant was nearly empty, all the empty tables were reserved, so we had to sit at the diner-type bar in the window. The only problem with that is that we couldn't see the decor -- at least a quarter of the pleasure of El Caracol. The walls are a beautiful shade of orange, there is thatching over the bar, framed posters of practically every pleasant holiday destination except Mexico and El Salvador, and handwritten signs advertising the specials -- in Spanish, which I love.
We were, however, able to see that one lone middle-class white woman was sitting at one of the reserved tables. And just after we had seated ourselves, her party began to show up in ones and twos.
She began issuing complaints almost immediately. You could tell that someone else had suggested El Caracol and she had been railroaded into it.
It's a small restaurant -- part of its charm. So when you have a resrvation for 12, there is no way to fit them at a single table. It just can't be done there. The woman's solution? A table of 10 and of 2. Wow. What a great party for the last 2 to arrive. I must say, though, that they did provide a fun show for the rest of the evening.
We ordered, then I excused myself. Going to the washroom at El Caracol is fun -- you have to walk through the narrow hallway to the kitchen through it to get to the brightly-coloured washroom. I like knowing exactly how clean the kitchen and washroom are -- a risk in some places, but these ladies keep it immaculate. Also, it's fun to watch the cooks puttering around -- they never seem to be in a hurry, but the food is always out in good time.
Our server (very sweet, bounces between Spanish for hubby and English for me) brought our first course -- nachos.
The nachos there are unreal. Homemade chips, with a crunchiness I have never encountered before. Plentiful, beautifully melted cheese. Chunks of avacado all over. Covered with creme fraiche. We always overeat at El Caracol, but we can't not order the nachos.
Then, as the last couple comes late to the party and stand around looking disgruntled, the pupusas arrive and I can no longer divide my concentration.
Here's how you eat a pupusa.
1. break it open first, otherwise it will burn your tongue.
2. fork out a generous amount of curtido (sort of like sour kraut, but crispier) and cover it with salsa. The curtido and salsa come in abundance at El Caracol. I use mild salsa and then add some spicy to the mix.
3. rip off a piece of pupusa and use it to grab salsa-covered curtido.
4. shove it into your mouth
5. if you use a knife and fork (which I never do), you are a whitey
6. ditto if you get your fingers entirely covered with slop (which I always do)
They are heaven. They should taste exactly like a taco -- melted cheese and beans in a corn flour shell -- but they don't. They're superior by far. For a bonus treat, order horchata to drink. It's like a more pungent version of chocolate milk, with no actual chocolate.
We left the party to wallow in confusion. It was a beautiful evening.
Summary
Food: beautiful
Service: lovely
Price: a fairly cheap date
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