Donkeys Can’t Cook
Ahh, summer. What better way to spend a Southern California summer than by hanging at the beach on a hot sunny day. If only there was a way to combine my love of Nachos with a day on the beach. Apparently, I’m not the only one that feels a day at the beach could not be complete with the inclusion of some Mexican Food, which is why today I’m reviewing the beachside restaurant El Burrito Jr. # 2. The name brings up a whole lot of questions that the world (me) wants answered. Mainly, Is there an El Burrito Sr.? but most importantly, how the heck can donkeys cook up any type of Mexican food without opposable thumbs? The back story to this restaurant is as puzzling as the plot to “Cool World” (Even Brad Pitt could not save that plot-hole-a-rama). It didn’t matter, I was at the beach with my loved one (Postal <3) and we were hungry, so inside we went.
They all say that
Upon sitting down and enjoying our most excellent views (as old school Keanu would say), I took a look at the menu and found the prey that I would be devouring for lunch, Grande Nachos. Soon thereafter we were greeted with what I’m assuming were supposed to be chips and salsa. To me, however, it looked like a bunch of tostadas and salsa. I don’t have anything against this (I’m not that lazy that I can’t break up my own chips), I was just hoping this was not going to foreshadow my soon-to-come meal. I could not tell you if the “chips” were any good, as neither Postal nor I eat chips. Well, kind of. Yes, as weird as it sounds, I only eat chips for Nachos reviews and not at any other time (don’t ask). Along with the salsa we also received what would be considered the rest of the salsa bar.
The Three Amigos
About ten minutes after staring at our hybrid tortilla chips, the waiter arrived with our food. Upon receiving the Nachos I have to say they did make my mouth water. Guacamole, sour cream, shredded American and Jack cheese and shredded chicken. There was something that looked like pico de gallo, but it was only composed of tomato squares, so it gave the illusion of delicious pico de gallo. There was also a well-hidden layer of refried beans under all the chips. Appearance has a lot to do with Nachos. I want the food to look appetizing and to taste just as good. It might not seem like a big deal since it all ends up in our stomachs as a big mush, but it does. Call me a Nachos sexist, but if I’m going to pick a plate of Nachos to work for my company, I’m going to pick the best-looking ones. These were definitely easy on the eyes.
Could have worn a shorter skirt
I poured the salsas and hot sauces and proceeded to make these Nachos end up on the side of a milk carton. I tasted the guacamole, which was only avocado and lime, and didn’t think much of it. The shredded chicken was pretty bland and tasteless. The cheeses were not bad, although they were not completely melted on spots. I think they meant for them to melt with the heat of the chicken and beans, but a lot of it didn’t. The beans did taste fresh, and although they were at the bottom of the chips they weren’t so hot and greasy that the chips would get soggy. I can’t complain about the tomato squares…they tasted like tomato squares. The sour cream was also your regular sour cream. As I kept inspecting the ingredients I picked up a particular chip.
Ok, seriously, I know I said I wasn’t lazy enough to break up my own chips, but those were free “chips” and salsa. This is the meal I paid for, and how do I get treated? With deformed looking chips that are in no way small enough to be considered chips, I’m allowed to complain about these. I don’t want to break up my own chips, nor do I want the elephantine chips to take up all of the toppings leaving the rest of the chips dry. At first I thought this might have been a fluke and I could let it slide, but then I looked at one of the other chips.
t(>_<t)
Seriously, how hard is it to break up tostadas into chips?? Just Chris Brown them a few times and I guarantee you they will get that chip consistency. That’s just lazy. Look at the picture above. That’s nothing but a rolled up fried tortilla. It can’t be considered a tostada or a chip, just a rolled up less of a chip impotent tortilla. It turns out that most of the chips were 10 times too big. Bleh. I ended up eating as much of this bland mess as I could and breaking up most of the fried tortillas. I kept looking at the beach view and telling myself it was worth it (it wasn’t). In the end, the only thing I ended up with was a few humongous greasy oversized chips. Although they didn’t stand a chance, it was kind of like beating up an oversized child with Down syndrome.
Stupid “Chips”
Next time, I should remind myself to not expect quality Nachos from a restaurant that has pictures of thumb-less animals serving food.
Those chips are false advertisment
-iwst99
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