Chapter 1: The Curious Case of the Two-Day Burrito
Upon relocating to the Mission District of San Francisco, home of the best Mexi food in all the land (take that, Mexico), the burrito has quickly become an integral part of both my diet and my lifestyle. More often than not, I can accurately forecast that Fryday will be honored with a midday California burrito (and complete abandonment of both button and fly in my place of work…oops), while the weekend holds promise of a magical breakfast burrito that contests the size of a healthy newborn and would likely turn to glitter in the sunlight.
My time spent immersed in burrito culture has led me to conclude that there are two, and only two, types of people in this world. There are those who bravely attack the chargrilled shell of a jumbo burrito face-first, welcoming the challenge to slay the beast in a single sitting; and then, there are those who quickly reach for the nearest serrated blade, proceed to cut the gargantuan thing into two painstakingly equal segments, blanket half of the still piping hot beaut in crinkly Taqueria foil, and stuff it into the depths of a stiff paper bag before there is opportunity for total destruction to ensue.
While the feeling of woe that accompanies sending half of a burrito on its way to Leftoverville and inevitably onward to Soggy City is painful indeed, it debatably outweighs the following series of events that arise whenever I foolishly accept a total burrito domination challenge.
Despite my extensive research, I have yet to resolve the two-day burrito quandry– should one attempt to overextend the goodness of the burrito and face the repercussions of sogginess, or does true happiness lie in defeating the whole damn thing at once (and enduring the wrath of hours to follow)?
Chapter 2: Le Tour de Burrito
I figure the only logical next step in both resolving this serious dilemma and establishing myself as a true burrito conquistador is to continue on my Tour de Burrito, appetite ablaze. Below I have compiled my brief findings with the sincere hope of kickstarting a career in culinary tour guiding when my quarter-life crisis hits.
- La Taqueria- The Lil Guy. Supposedly the best burrito in the entire United States. *Weeeow* This little burrito packs a big punch in taste but disappoints in size compared to its behemoth Taqueria competitors. Needless to say, regrets of going halfsies were had when hunger struck shortly thereafter.
- Taqueria Cancun- The Big Cheese. The most golden tortilla you’ve ever seen smothered with melty jack cheese before being generously stuffed with your expected premium taqueria fixins. This is where it’s @.
- Publico- The Fryday find. This California style burrito has corrupted any plans for Friday afternoon productivity in my workplace. Fry game is strong, carne asada game perhaps even stronger.
The Breakfast Boys:
- Tacobar- The Poser. Your average, ricey, beany burrito dressed up with some scrambled eggs and chopped chorizo in a sad attempt to pass itself off as a regular member of the Breakfast Club. I see right through yo’ tricks, Tacobar.
- The Grove- The Elitist. Thrillist’s choice for best breakfast burrito in all of SF. After a bit of coaxing I was inclined to investigate, and $19 later I decided that not even some rosemary hashbrowns, Niman bacon, and artisanal cheddar could lead me astray from…
- The Grind– The game changer. This perfect specimen was preceded by intense hype and drawn-out anticipation that had me preparing to mask some degree of disappointment. I prepared myself to find a fatal flaw– the slightest imbalance of proportion, perhaps. Yet the burrito was indeed flawless, and the proof was not in the pudding, but was wrapped in a grilled tortilla that God must have FedExed down here Himself. Because holy shit. Fluffy eggs, crispy hashbrowns, crumbly bacon, melty cheddar, creamy avocado…’nuff said.