If you&#x92;ve never tried coleslaw for breakfast, you don&#x92;t know what you&#x92;re missing.</p><p>&#x93;I like curtido on my eggs,&#x94; the young waitress at El Salvadore&#xF1;o says as she places an apothecary jar on the table. After opening the wire clasp, diners use a pair of tongs to fish out a helping of shredded cabbage and carrot spiked with the occasional wheel of jalape&#xF1;o, all pickled in distilled white vinegar.</p><p>At first I&#x92;m not sure if she is offering the curtido as a sort of lagniappe, a little extra &#x93;thank you&#x94; for sticking around when the caf&#xE9; chairs were still upside down on tables at 9 a.m. It didn&#x92;t take me long to figure out curtido may come as an occasional side with eggs, but it is obligatory when eating pupusas.</p><p>At lunch and dinner, El Salvadoran families and a group of laborers dressed in paint-flecked denim and sweatshirts hunched over plates of the heavy, griddled cakes made from corn masa. The curtido may be chased with a few squirts of a ketchup-style condiment that adds a bit of tomato-y flavor without any discernible trace of heat or sugar.</p><p>&#x93;It&#x92;s like how you can&#x92;t eat a cheeseburger without lettuce or tomato,&#x94; says caf&#xE9; co-owner Benjamin Sol. &#x93;You can&#x92;t eat pupusas without that fresh crunch of curtido.&#x94;</p><p>Is curtido traditional breakfast fare?</p><p>Sol says not everyone eats eggs that way, but he does.</p><p>&#x93;It&#x92;s almost like adding salsa so your eggs are ranchero style,&#x94; he says. </p><p>El Salvadore&#xF1;o joins Elsa&#x92;s, a new Ethiopian restaurant just a block down the street, as welcome additions to the downtown Overland Park dining scene.</p><p>The casual El Salvadore&#xF1;o features garage doors and an interior that is clean and modern, with the sort of patio feel that is common to tropical locales. A mural of &#x93;Savior of the World,&#x94; one of San Salvador&#x92;s most famous landmarks, rises up one wall and reminds me of &#x93;Christ the Redeemer&#x94; standing watch over Rio de Janeiro.</p><p>A folk-art painted canvas hangs over the bar and a few wooden spoons on the wall. A stuffed parrot mutely greets customers at the door. The male servers often wear the national team&#x92;s soccer jersey.</p><p>Sol was born in Kansas City and grew up in Parkville. He met his El Salvadoran wife, Blanca, while both were working at Argosy Casino.</p><p>&#x93;I fell in love and got engulfed in the culture,&#x94; he says.</p><p>Benjamin&#x92;s day job: sous chef at the Embassy Suites. Blanca works as a server at the new Hollywood Casino but is in charge of the execution of her family&#x92;s recipes at the cafe. Her brother, Jonathan, manages the day-to-day operations.</p><p>Like pupusas, the El Salvadoran-style breakfast can be ordered any time of day. The hearty repast includes eggs cooked to order, slightly sweet fried plantains, a dark refried bean dish garnished with crema and some homemade tortillas.</p><p>If Kansas Citians are already familiar with El Salvadoran cuisine, it is likely because they have been to a pupuseria. From there, the family hopes to introduce diners to a wide and varied menu that includes everything from the unintimidating pinchos (shish kebabs) to the slightly more adventurous whole fried tilapia. (Each item on the menu is illustrated with a photo.) </p><p>For a crash course, try the sampler platter, which includes a bean, cheese and chicharao (chunks of deep-fried pork) pupusa, a chicken tamale, fried yucca (similar to a potato), a beef pastel (basically a meat turnover or empanada) and an enchilada, which resembles the thickness of a pupusa, with the filling served on top. All for $10.99.</p><p>Or load up on pupusas, which sell for just $2.50 a piece.</p><p>Add a heaping helping of curtido and it&#x92;s doubtful you&#x92;ll have room for the canoa, a sort of Latin banana split filled with a fluffy cinnamon leche that has the consistency of marshmallow fluff, or the flan, a rich, eggy rendition with plenty of caramel punch.