This week ...

Place: Mi Chalateca Pupuseria

Visited: Sunday at noon

Partner in crime: Anne Anderle, Weekly Volcano intern

Time spent: 2.33 hours

Most offensive menu item: Dog penis. Just kidding.

Food plates on our table: Approximately eight

Space left on the table: Four square inches

Biggest mistake: Not wearing elastic waistbands

Mutual weight gained: 6 pounds, 14 ounces

Event dubbed: Sunday Salvadorian Eat-A-Thon

After more than three years of narrowly missing a hefty unemployment check as the result of an always-impending termination from Weekly Volcano, Inc., it's no surprise they still send an intern to check up on me.  For the most part these interns have been innocent, kind females who have little or no intention of stirring up trouble and/or tattling on me.

SOTA intern Anne Anderle was no different.

Sweet, sweet Anne. Even the tone of her voice held genuine and professional as she responded to my annoyingly immature repetition of the word "pupuseria." 

I giggled relentlessly at the thought of scaring Anne with unknown food items at a strange, non-mainstream restaurant. I even chuckled at my response of "I'll be the only other white person there," to her inquisition of how she will be able to recognize me at Mi Chalateca Pupuseria. 

Still, Anne's elegant demeanor did not change. Damn.

My next plan was to stuff her with Salvadorian delicacies until she puked.  Or at least until she passed out and did a face-plant into her Carne Guisada. Beyond her Carne Guisada (steamed beef in tomato cream sauce), I ordered almost one of everything on the first page of the menu.  Pork tamale, chicken tamale, four pupusas (thick, handmade corn tortillas filled with cheese and topped with spicy slaw) and an order of Pastelitos de Carne (foiled and fried corn tortillas filled with veggies).

I sipped on my mandarin Jarritos and made inappropriate penis jokes while waiting for Anne to run away crying, but she only smiled even bigger. This girl was no Sally; she had spent enough time in DeRosa warfare to be considered "one of us". 

As we noshed our way through the abundance of comida étnica, I figured why not get the REAL scoop. Always a sucker for some saucy info, I badgered her for SOTA gossip - and gossip I received. 

All I can say is: Wow! There's some juicy s*** going on up in that school!  Never underestimate the power of a teenage artist in angst or how intoxicating Salvadorian food can become.

[Mi Chalateca Pupuseria, 33427 Pacific Hwy S, Federal Way, 253.838.1688]