Getting a lot of mileage out of this photo Lincoln took on the iPhone. Hey, we're getting new iPhones soon!

So here's what happened.

I had a pretty lousy week at work, involving an illness that developed over the weekend into something that was really just too horrible for words, which culminated Monday in an experience that I can only describe, in this forum at least, as "not fun."

I spent Monday at the doctor's office, and the rest of the week recuperating from my ailment, while and at the same time working my regular day job, which consists of throwing sixty-pound lengths of chain across the deck of a flatbed trailer and lashing heavy industrial equipment thereunto.

It was hot and sweaty work, and about three days into the week I noticed the label on my medicine said: WARNING! AVOID DIRECT OR INDIRECT SUNLIGHT WHILE USING THIS PRODUCT. 

Sigh.  My whole life consists of direct or indirect sunlight. 

My week sucked, is my point.

So I was definitely ready for Friday, which was also payday. 

I called Lincoln.

"You know anything about the cuisine of El Salavador?" I asked.

"Nope," he replied.

"Then tonight will be educational."

This is the flag of a nation that really knows what they are doing in the kitchen.

El Salvador is a smallish country in Central America that is mostly famous among Americans for being one of those places that we got too involved with in back in the 1980s.  Or not involved enough; nobody can remember.  At any rate, Oliver Stone made a movie about the place, starring Raul Julia, Susan Sarandon, Powers Boothe, and Tim Robbins.  Or was that True Stories?  I definitely remember that it was something I was supposed to be really upset about, back when I was in college.

Wait, Danny Ortega was El Presidente there.  Or some sort of strongman, even though he looked more like my junior-high algebra teacher.

I guess my point is that it's not very easy to pad out these articles.  You could look at the Wikipedia article if you want.  It's okay.  I'll wait here.

This book will turn you into Jamie Hyneman. Or Kari Byron. There's no way to know until it's too late, though.

Mi Chalateca is a little place in a strip mall just off Highway 99 in Federal Way, another strip-mall restaurant in an endless parade of strip-mall restaurants.

However, Lincoln and I have had some pretty good luck with these strip-mall places.  They are usually family-run places with great homemade food, great prices, and staff who are only more than happy to patiently educate big hairy middle-aged guys on their cuisine, traditions, and culture. 

Lincoln found this place a little while ago and pointed it out to me as a possible option, so, since we had to go that way for our usual arcane and bizarre errands (drop off car payment at Crazy Vaclav's Place of Automobiles, fruitless search for Pocket Ref book at Home Depot, shopping spree to reload Beer Fridge at 99 Bottles), we dropped in for some dinner.

These are my new best friend.

First up, we both ordered some pupusas.  Pupusas are extremely tasty little corn tortillas, stuffed with cheese, beans, and chicharrones (pureed pork), or any combination thereof.  These are served with a side of pickled cabbage, which turns out to be absolutely essential if you want to keep the roof of your mouth from dissolving into a curtain of shredded flesh as though you'd just eaten four bowls of Capn' Crunch.  Seriously, these things are served HOT.  Like, fusion hot. The cabbage cuts through the heat quite nicely.

So, of course, the best thing you can do is squirt some hot sauce (provided table-side in a quart-sized ketchup bottle) all over the thing, and wolf 'em down.  Which we did.

I've run out of superlatives. This food is GOOD.

If we had any sense, we would have just ordered three or four pupusas each and maybe a couple of Cokes.  That would have been more than enough food. 

But if we had any sense, we'd be grown-ups, and those people never have any fun.

Lincoln ordered the Carne Guisada, which is... Well, it's beef stew.  This is really interesting: the Japanese have a version of beef stew, called Nikujaga; we have several variations on the theme here in the States; and the Salvadoran take on the recipe is excellent too. 

The Salvadoran way to deal with cuts of cheap beef involves steam.  Lots and lots of steam, until the beef is so tender that, as Emmett Watson once said, you need merely speak harshly to it, and it will fall apart.  Add potatoes, carrots, and rice on the side, and you have a plate full of win.

Turkey Sammiches.

I got Panes Relleno, which is a pulled turkey sandwich on a split French roll, with vegetables, cucumber, tomato, and mayonnaise.  It was HUGE, and a little too much for me to eat.

The kitchen at this place is staffed by a couple of middle-aged women, shouting at each other, the customers, and, possibly, the food, all in rapid-fire Spanish.  All the food is hand-made and fresh, and the prices are very very reasonable: Lincoln and I got away with all that food for a skosh under thirty bucks.

Here. Drink this.

Oh yeah, one more thing: horchata.  Horchata is a fantastic cinnamon-flavored rice-milk drink, like drinking a cold Cinnabon.  You should all go out and try one, if you haven't already.

And, if you live in or near Federal Way, you should try out Salvadoran food at Mi Chalateca. 

Beats heck out of Taco Bell, I'll tell you that.