If ever I needed a foodstuff to pierce the banality of piped music middle class shopping mall hell, I will let you know. But until then, I'll grab a bite at Mi Casa in Walnut Creek.
Like a suburban kiwi fruit, Mi Casa boasts an outer exterior *coughs* (possible architectural mid-life crisis) that masks and defies the actuality of it's attractive inner tangy-ness; I have discovered my creeky oasis. In here, they won't tempt you with too-expensive nylon youth fashion, there is no perpetual soundtrack of sports car engine throttle and I have not yet been choked by a passing gas-bomb of moderately expensive perfume, I could get to like this place. Or maybe I'm just relieved the following customer closed the door behind him.
For some unknown reason I feel the need to cleanse my soul, but given the limitations of a Taqueria, it's probably better I opt for a healthy food supplement instead. And so, the $7 veggie burrito it is. On opening, my wallet lets out a feeble whimper, but I reassure, ''It's OK, we've found a friend here, I can feel it.''
But halt, what ethnic mayhem could this be? What is this soupy wet-style yet without the wet dry-reality cylinder I have before me? Are those curry spices? Is this steamed carrot? What kind of creeky oasis is this place? Do I feel cheated, or converted? The usually too-butch phallusness of the burrito is just too flaccid and hot to hold up with my bare hands so I have to use utensils, there is no foil in sight and yet, I think I like it. The sour cream is on the side like some kind of Mexican raita, but it works, and there are mouthfuls where I don't feel the need to sample the guacamole with the burrito, I.can.just.save.it.for.the.chips. Is there no end to Mi Casa's subversion of the burrito norm or of shopping mall eatery convention? Is this a Tardis? Who am I?
Don't make me go back out there Mi Casa, I like it inside. You are my new haven amongst spandex yoga pants and coffee to-go cups ''for sure.'' But next time, can I get it no-fat, skinny and without the carbs though? and urr, I think the hot sauce has had sugar added or something... Hey, I TOLD you you'd like this place, um, isn't that chair cushion JUST like the cute one I saw in Pottery barn..?
Salsa rating: Medium/Hot