BBQ Pupusas Return This Sunday: Cooked Over Coals, Built by Hand

This Sunday, March 15, the plancha goes back over the coals for something we have been quietly working on. Our BBQ pupusas are returning to the smokehouse, and this time as BBQ Pupusas 2.0.

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They will be cooked the same way we cook everything that matters here, over real coals, on cast iron, with the same patience we give the brisket. Small batches, steady heat, and the kind of attention that only fire demands.

What follows is the story of how they come together.

It settles into the iron. It hums through the coals. It asks you to slow down and pay attention.

Our barbecue pupusas are cooked the same way we cook our brisket: with fire you can see and feel. Each one is laid onto a cast-iron plancha set directly over glowing coals. No gas. No hidden heat source. Just iron and embers working together. This process begins long before the pupusas touch the plancha.

Masa is mixed from scratch and kneaded until soft and elastic, then rested so it relaxes under a towel. We portion 130 grams per pupusa, enough to cradle the filling without turning heavy. It should feel pliable in the hand, not stiff.

Inside, the smokehouse carries the weight. Oak-smoked brisket or pulled pork, chopped lightly while still warm, so it stays tender. Refried beans cooked down until thick and structured, reduced just enough to hold their shape. The filling has to be balanced. Too much moisture and the dough weakens. Too little and it eats densely.

The cheese blend is built carefully. Quesillo pulled long and fine for stretch. Queso fresco crumbled for softness. Smoked feta folded in to echo the oak from the smoker. It is mixed gently so it melts smoothly instead of compacting into a tight core.

Once sealed, each pupusa is placed on a cast-iron plancha positioned over red coals. The iron is fully preheated, hot but steady. We set the pupusa down and leave it alone for three to four minutes. No sliding. No pressing. The surface begins to toast where iron meets corn. We turn it once and only once, letting the second side cook another three to four minutes while the cheese relaxes and stretches inside.

Cooking on cast iron over coals is different from cooking over flame. The heat is radiant and constant, rising from embers rather than licking the surface. If the iron runs too hot, the exterior seals before the cheese melts. If it runs too low, the pupusa loses structure. You adjust by reading the coals, not turning a knob.

What comes off the plancha carries the mark of that fire. Toasted, mottled spots from the iron. Edges are lightly firm. The center is still elastic under gentle pressure. Crisp outside. Tender inside.

They are served with a roja salsa built without vinegar. Half the tomatoes are roasted until blistered and slightly smoky. The rest stay fresh for brightness. Ancho chiles are toasted lightly, hydrated, and blended into a smooth paste. Achiote is dissolved separately, so it folds cleanly. Onion, green chile, oregano, thyme, and bay leaf are all part of the supporting characters. It simmers uncovered until it turns a deep, bright red with natural depth from the roasted tomatoes. The balance comes from salt and a touch of brown sugar, adjusted at the end so it tastes full and round.

Alongside it is our house-made curtido, fermented and pickled in-house over three days using vinegar we make from scratch. Cabbage, carrot, onion, and oregano settle slowly into that brine. By the time it reaches your tray, it carries crunch and brightness that cuts through melted cheese and smoked meat without overpowering them.

This is a limited special, cooked in small batches because the plancha over coals demands space and attention. When they are gone for the day, they are gone.

If you want to taste them at their best, come early while the coals are steady and the iron is hot. You can also order ahead and bring a few home for dinner. And if you are planning a gathering, ask about adding barbecue pupusas, charred salsa roja, and three-day curtido to your next catering spread. They tell our story the way we know best. Through fire.