We drove 10 minutes down Bellaire Boulevard to Pupusa Allegre and entered El Salvador. There are men lounging around outside at the next door garage. There are bars on the faded white and lime green windows. The TV has a soccer match on between two Mexican teams. The score is 0:0. The tablecloth is plastic, and white and red checked. The waitress has on a black skirt and a red blouse. She brings us the menu, but I don’t need to look at it. Two pupusas, cheese and loroco, and cheese and chicharon, a couple of Coronas. After we order, we hear furious patting. These pupusas are made by hand, patting the masa, tucking in the cheese, and then patted flat before they see the hot griddle. The bowl of curtido, simply raw or nearly raw cabbage with a few shreds of carrots seems too much, but we manage to eat it all. I like best the hot, rich aroma of the corn as you eat, taking care not to let the melted cheese burn your tongue.