I had a chupaqueso this evening. Mozzarella shell (standard low-skim/part-milk stuff, not fresh) and Mild cheddar filling. Thanks to a slight pan malfunction (I should have used the griddle) I overcooked the shell just a bit, but the end result was still delicious.
I shared a few bites with the children. Patches (the 2-year-old) asked his usual “Is it yum?” question. I said yes, and gave him some.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Chupaqueso,” I answered.
He gobbled his first bite down, chewing very thoroughly (cooked mozzarella can be like that).
“I want more chupaqueso”
He got two bites before I finished it off. He asked for more, and I held up my empty plate and announced “it’s all gone.”
“You need to have more” he told me.
“*I* need to have more? For me, or for YOU?” I looked over my glasses at him.
He scowled at me. Lucky for him, Sandra was in the mood to give it a shot, and she cooked while I moved on to other things.