Express Pupusería
Part 2 - Migration, Portals & Express Pupusería
3,867 miles. That is the distance from El Salvador to San Francisco. Chamaca and I sit here, in this small 12 seat restaurant located on Geary Boulevard and listen to the sounds of someone making pupusas. It's the same sound I heard at home when my mom made pupusas during the holidays. The same sound I heard when my Tia came to visit. It's a sound that resonates with so much emotion in it, a sound that traveled so many miles, carried by those who brought it with them. Chamaca is hearing it now, at Express Pupusería.
No disrespect to San Francisco, but sitting in Express Pupusería made me feel like I was back in Los Angeles. Small tables pushed up against the wall, Los Caminos de la Vida playing on a kitchen radio, and the 2 women behind the counter taking orders, making food, running food, answering the phone and bussing tables; doing it all without hesitation. It's an extremely warm day for San Francisco so the front door was propped open. I could hear the traffic going down Geary Street and it reminded me of sitting in a small restaurant on West Pico Boulevard in the El Salvador Community Corridor back home in Los Angeles.
When trying a new pupusa place, I always order the following:
Cheese & loroco pupusa
Bean & cheese pupusa
Fried Plantains with beans & crema
Curtido and salsa roja should be complimentary. If it isn't, leave.
These 4 items will tell you a lot about a place. To be honest, if they can't do these 4 items well, I wouldn't bother ordering from the rest of the menu. These are staple dishes that show many things. How is the masa? Are the beans pureed but not runny? Is the curtido flavorful but not overbearing? Is the salsa roja spicy in a balanced way? Are the fried plantains tender but still hold their shape? Express Pupusería hit the mark on all these items. The masa reminded me of the same masa my mom makes. The pupusa was jam packed with cheese and beans. Curtido and salsa were balanced and complimented the pupusa well.
My mother always told me you are supposed to eat pupusas with your hands. Chamaca is fast becoming an expert at this. I look at Chamaca and wonder what this human experience is like for her? When she looks back at these times, what memories will stay? Life experience can shape your personality, but can it also shape the way you cook and create? Can a person's feelings and memories be tasted in their food? Yes, yes it can.
A person who has traveled over 3,000 miles knows something. They possess a remarkable ability to step into an unknown void with confidence that they will re-materialize on the other side in one piece. This is an incredible act of bravery. I feel close to this type of person, not because I understand or begin to pretend to know about their life, but I respect and recognize the struggle. It’s the same struggle my parents endured, each traveling over 3,000 miles from their home to become citizens in a foreign country. I am immensely proud of my parents, because that kind of journey makes them valiente.
People travel, people migrate, and food travels and migrates with them. Want an example? Al pastor tacos were actually created by Lebanese sheep herding immigrants who landed in Mexico in the early 1900’s. Cooking meat on a rotating spit had been a part of their culture for so long, it just made sense to keep doing it with whatever product they could source in Mexico, first lamb then mainly pork. Al pastor literally means “Shepherd style” (google it if you don’t believe me).
The next time you eat, close your eyes for a second and think about the person who prepared it. Where did they come from? Was it a hard and arduous journey? Did they lose someone they deeply love? Are they happy in this life? Is this person struggling with some secret depression they keep to themselves? Can you taste all that in the food? It'll be hard to do so at first. It’s an untrained part of your brain. But do it enough times and you’ll start to recognize emotions in the food. Sure, sometimes you’ll get a grump or a sad person, and the food will taste as though it were prepared carelessly. But sometimes, oh sometimes you’ll get someone who is in love, someone who is having a great week. Maybe they genuinely enjoy coming to work and mixing masa up to their elbows. Or chopping cabbage for curtido brings them immense joy; a reminder of their childhood and their mother. The food prepared by this person will fill not only your stomach but your heart, and once you tune your mind to this you’ll be able to better understand that this world is filled with people experiencing ebbs and flows, just like you, and their food can heal whatever wound you have in your heart, if you allow it.
Today was a good day for Chamaca and that person making pupusas back there. I don’t know what tomorrow will be like for either of them. But we are here now, Chamaca and I listening to the sound of a pupusa maker, a sound that is familiar to anyone who’s ever grown up with a Salvadorian parent or friend. I close my eyes and breathe deep, inhaling it all, and sit with it for a little longer. This moment is all you get sometimes, so etch it into your mind and make it count.
Chamaca sneezes with a mouthful of pupusa and I look at her. I wipe half chewed baby slobber pupusa off my shorts and we both start laughing. Her laughter will always be in my heart, she laughs like happiness is pouring out of her. We need more of that in this world.
Express Pupusería
4715 Geary Blvd, San Francisco, CA 94118
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