Pupusas Up Close and Personal

So in late August - really hot days here in Colorado - I suddenly remembered a little Pupusas stand that we have here in Louisville.  They set up in the parking lot of a local liquor store, and there is often a long line snaking out from the one too-highly-placed window opening in the cart (it's about the size of a one-horse trailer).  I walked up - solidly built lady standing in window with hairnet blossoming up from her head.  I ask a question or two about the ingredients (there was a veg listed named zeloc or something - reminding me of a space alien character).  It seems that my $20 bill will be no good there, as she has no change, so I am directed to liquor store to get change. 

I return - I can see the woman patting together a pupusa, and I call out that husband Bill & I have tried to make pupusas, but the fillings always just burst through and oozed around, and they were hard as rocks after we cooked 'em, so we were going to have to have all our pupusas from her cart.  (Side note - we waited until nightfall and then sent our rock-hard pupusas sailing out into the park behind our house - figured the raccoons wouldn't be picky.)  She fixed me with a look and more or less declared, "Come in."  I hesitated but it was clear I was being given a terrific opportunity - I said, "Really?" and she said, "Come in."  So I scooted around to the back door and joined ELSIE in the pupusas cart!  She directed me to put on little clear gloves that reduce your dexterity by at least 60%, told me to put OIL on them (another 15%, gone), and with the dexterity remaining to me, I accepted the little gob o' dough she handed me, and mirrored her pupusa making approach. 

Elsie truly had little English skill, so much gesticulation went on with our little oily puffy gloves - but she would say, "Pat pat pat!" and I had my orders.  "Now filling!"  I put a delicate, not-greedy amount of grated filling (there was cheese in there, also something green - zeloc?) on top of this 4" wide patty, and she said, "More."  I looked quizzically at her.  "More," declared Elsie, so I heaped on probably a total of 1/3 C. of filling on this teeny patty thing.  Then she modeled a kind of turning/patting/pulling/shaping motion, which I mimicked, and wonderfully, the dough stretched like freakin' MAGIC around the filling!!  As I approached the little cooking surface, and she blocked me and announced, "Skinny.  SKINNY."  As I was pretty sure she wasn't referring to me, I realized she wanted that sucker SKINNY.  Doubting all the while that the filling would remain within the confines of the dough, I did pat pat pat, and I'll be darned - it Pupusa-ed!  We fried mine up, I left the cart after a huge hug and sincere declarations of my appreciation, and as I left with my FREE (because she wouldn't take money for the ones I made) pupusas (I got to pay for the 4 I'd ordered), she declared, "Come back."  And I believe I will!