A few notes that didn’t make it into this week’s review of lesser-known antojitos:1. Perfection is not a virtue when it comes to forming pupusas, stuffed Salvadoran corn (or rice) cakes. Yes, pupusas look better when they’re undimpled circles, and sure, they’re more satisfying to cut through when they’re at least an inch fat. But what is essential, if only to me and not your abuela, is a loose hand when flattening out the pupusa to ensure it’s riddled with seams and cracks. Cheese burbles out of cracks. It leaks through the corn and drips onto the griddle, where it browns, smokes, crisps, even burns a little. It’s just as important the crunchy ruffle that rings a proper grilled-cheese sandwich. By this standard — and a few more — the pupusas at Salva Mex in Burien) are good ‘uns.2. I got an email a couple weeks ago from a friend who knew I was checking out Huarachito’s. He asked, “Have you read Jonathan Gold’s latest review in the LA Weekly? Huarachito’s is serving the carnitas he wrote about.” I read his piece and drove back for another visit. While the flautas and huaraches I mentioned in the piece were the two best dishes I ate in my three trips here, the husband-wife team who run this restaurant are indeed serving specialty carnitas, which simmer away in an enormous pot whose bottom raises up in the center, as if the pan were forged on the beer belly of an enormous lush, to reduce the amount of fat needed to cover the pork parts as they cook. Most taco-truck addicts will have eaten regular pork butt (maciza) and stomach (buche, a favorite), and would think nothing of rib meat (costilla). But what about ear (oreja), snout (trompa), or skin (cueritos)? The picture above is a closeup of oreja, braised long, long past the crunchy-gelatinous point that Chinese and Vietnamese eaters love; I have to say, I found the ear and the snout too soft, too yielding and bland, for my taste. Still: a rare find.3. Those of you who haven’t eaten a tlayuda, aka another “Mexican pizza,” the best one in the city — the crispiest cornmeal crust, the densest asiento (a meat-lard spread), the tangiest quesillo, the most tender cecina — should drive up to La Casa Azul on Greenwood and 144th. Read my 2008 review for details. Other Oaxacan antojitos on the menu: picaditas, entomatadas, and molotes.