Chipotle, South Shore Mall, Alameda

Written by Casey Deeha

Why I'm choosing to review Chipotle in Alameda is really beyond me - as an intentionally homogenous chain they really aren't much different from each other. You could perhaps read my review of Chipotle in Oakland to get a drift as to how Chipotle makes me feel like a cow wandering in a slaughter house. Either way, it's another taqueria so why not.

If anything, Chipotle's existence in Alameda could be seen as representative of the inevitability of what Capitalism breeds. Taking Alameda, once a resort town in the early 20th century, one can really see this development - driving along the breadth of the island, you can witness this capitalist evolution through the architecture as the houses evolve from grandiose mock Victorian summer houses to 50s and 60s apartment complexes created by a Utah construction company who were also responsible for the lagoons. Of course, a transition from wealthy Victorian housing to a more suburban-style tract housing may not necessarily be emblematic of any capital pursuits, but perhaps over population and changing trends. The South Shore Mall, however, certainly falls within this category. With many of the well known chains - T.J. Maxx, Bed, Bath & Beyond, Dress Barn, Old Navy, Payless Shoes, and Ross - the capital gavel has been struck. And with Chipotle's presence, South Shore only cements itself as a the source of mass commodification in Alameda.

Stepping into the Chipotle is similar to stepping into the Matrix (more like part three) where I questioned the reality of anything. Once again, I was moved through the very long line at Chipotle like cattle only to be met with the familiar militaristic shouting by the so-called burrito makers. To make a long story short, I doused my burrito in salsa hoping to give it some familiar Mexican-like-happiness but no luck. The burrito was dry and very disappointing.

What's slightly more shocking is my view. I eat my burrito on the Chipotle patio overlooking the mass of Shorline Mall that has come to dominate this part of the island in relation to what was once here: a summer resort town where young strong swimmers used to swim around the guarding wall in order to lap up the luxury of the more affluent beach goers. And while I am pleased to see the dissemination of wealth coming from such class differentiation, commodification of our weekendly pursuits only places us, once again, in the hands of those few who control it.

On weekends, however, there is section of the parking lot dedicated to culinary food trucks - it looks much more inviting and, if my burrito senses serve me correctly, I sensed foiled tubes somewhere in there and will certainly return to more brightly color my perception of the South Shore mall.

I'm bantering on. Don't go to Chipotle; the burritos are a far cry from where they cam from.

Salsa Rating: Mildly Cold

Taqueria La Cumbre, Valencia St., Mission

Written by Casey Deeha -                                                                 The irony of Cinco de Mayo in relation to Taqueria La Cumbre's emblematic image of a scantily dressed woman in a victorious pose (right) presents a certain duplicity that relates to their red chicken burrito. It is, indeed, an interesting image - it is as if the woman won independence for her beloved Mexico purely through sexual means, perhaps propositioning soldiers as she pranced through the battle field donning bullet belts and a 'horn'. What is the image attempting to say? That while Mexico is a proud country, it can only be so with cleavage? I'm not sure, but perhaps the duplicity of Cinco de Mayo celebrations in the US can help to understand this interesting 'double think'. At its root, Cinco de Mayo is a celebration of when the Mexican army over turned the French in Puebla. Surely, that's no easy task, but why has it been so fervently adopted by overly-caffeinated-Starbucks-drinking-white-America? One visit down to Old Town in San Diego, you'll quickly have your answer: it's another excuse to slosh oneself in copious amounts of liquor while inhaling nachos and cheese - SUV driving-backwards-hat-wearing Frat boys love it. Of course, I hazard to to take away any significance of the holiday from the Mexican culture, but there is certainly an inherent duplicity which I find intriguing. You only have to ask a common celebrator of Cinco de Mayo what the holiday is predicated upon and they'll give you answers such as, 'Mexican independence' to 'I don't know'.

In considering this dichotomy, it's only fitting that Sal and I come to Taqueria la Cumbre for our Cinco de Mayo celebratory burrito given that it was rated in 2009 by Maxim as 'one of the best burritos in the nation' (see right). It would seem that La Cumbre can't really escape scantily dressed women in relation to their burritos... but what a treat we would have in store for ourselves. However, the theme of 'duplicity' runs deep and while I can firmly place their veggie burrito within the 'good' Mission Style Burrito category, I certainly can't say the same for the 'Red Chicken' burrito - the chicken was very dry which provided a rough chew. It was a case of what can appear on the outside doesn't necessarily reflect what's on the inside in possibly much the same way as the two women depicted. I mean, what are these two women thinking - 'I'm so happy to have just won independence that I shall show a pseudo-sexual pose and my partial breasts to express this'; 'I'm happy to show sex because that's all I'm worth'? I'm not so sure. 

Having said all this, who says that duplicity is bad; if one turns inward, we'll find duplicity. If you're reading this review on an Apple Mac, for example, ask what duplicity lies buried beneath when considering what 'image' you desiring to adopt while simultaneously considering that Apple exploits tax loopoles to avoid paying over $640 million in California state taxes - roughly the amount that would keep our state universities afloat. But who cares - it's sleek, shiny, runs well and I'm writing on right now. 

Duplicity for all!

Salsa Rating: Veggie Burrito - boarding on hot; Red Chicken Burrito - Mildly Warm.

Gordo Taqueria, Solano Ave., Albany

Composed by Chipp Oatlay

Reading my first couple reviews you might think one of two things: 1) Chipp Oatlay only eats at burrito establishments in gentrified white suburbia, or 2) Chipp is really picky and never has anything positive to say about the burritos he eats because he eats at bougie burrito eateries.  

The latter is partially true.  I will review the burritos I eat with ruthless honesty, and they have been in bougie areas.  If you want to figure out the bouge factor of your local hot spot take the total amount of Sarah Jessica Parker look-alikes herding around the area and divide it by a factor of 10.  With "0" being the lowest score--think downtown Berkeley--and "5" signifying that you probably live in some version of Sex and the City hell.  Downtown Walnut Creek has an average score of 3.7 and a top range of 4.3 on the SJP Index.  When I find myself eating a tasty carne asada burrito in Taqueria Mexican Grill purgatory, I think of Dante's Inferno, hell can always go deeper and the true degradation is unfathomable.  I try to accentuate the positive and rest securely in the knowledge that there are so many places in LA that are much, much worse.

The burrito offers itself to me as a lunchtime solace.  It is for this reason that I have reviewed in Stepford suburbia--my 9 to 5 takes me away from my preferred habitat where the common person thrives.  I do not mean common as in dull or not interesting, but as in the proletariat.  So, utilizing my local knowledge I made my way to Gordo Taqueria on Solano in Albany for dinner one night after work.

 I knew of that for which I had come.  I had planned to depart from the path of the carne asada.  If you are unfamiliar with Gordos and you are not into meatless burritos, then the carnitas is a must.  If you are a carnitas-lover like me, then you are familiar with the variety of carnitas ranging from unfortunately dry to indecently over-spiced.  You also know the ecstasy of the exquisitely well-crafted and succulent carnitas. 

I walk in and immediately to the right is a wall-length cork message board. Maybe you haven't eaten at Gordo Taqueria, but stopped by to look for work or offer your services.   My wife posted babysitter flyers here when she was fourteen and used her earnings to enjoy Gordo's well-made delights.  I love the message board because it gives a voice to the community and I appreciate some of the really weird shit that gets posted--"Reiki healing in exchange for childcare"--and I realize I  missed the most recent Capleton show--damn.  I should have come in two weeks ago!

Opposite the message board, there is a wall-length mural of a festival in a small Mexican puebla.  The subjects of the mural are smiling, dancing and eating food, which appears to be mole, hot from the grill.  This has always made me hungry for mole.  Someday I will ask, "Is that mole that they are eating?" and then regardless of the answer I will ask, "Have you guys ever thought of making a mole burrito?"

Over the years Gordos has consistently delivered perfectly prepared carnitas burritos for those who actually do work for a living.  I doubt you will see bankers, hedge fund investors and other societal bloodsuckers here. The guy who made my burrito knew what he was doing.  At first, I questioned how clean his hands were...then I noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring--which, in turn,  distracted me from thinking about cleanliness. This is a burrito for the common person made by a common person.  I watch the expert as he works building the burrito, even layers of rice, beans, guacamole and carnitas were rolled in such a way that every bite combined a little bit of each layer.  Quite a tight roll, too.  This was near burrito perfection, and the fact that at least one of the cooks has a family to help provide for makes me want to support Gordos all the more.   

On a hot night, it feels third world--in the best possible ways.  The red neon lights flicker as the ceiling fan rotates overhead.  The dusty window shades swing in the wind and strike the window sill intermittently, and the handmade chairs are a resonant decorative alternative to those Ikea inspired taco shops.  This modest haven typifies the best parts of the East Bay: unpretentious, local and original.  This is the burreatery of the common man.  It fits its location.  I think Weber would approve. 

Salsa Rating: Picante y sabroso

(Sidebar: try the quesadilla; it is fried on the flat top and rolled into semi-burrito form. Amazing.)

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Picante, 6th St., Berkeley

Written by Casey Deeha

In the mid to late 19th century, during the general historical notion termed 'manifest destiny,' the government would often hold competitions or races that would expedite the settling of the Midwest. Crowds of would be Americans raced to place flags in the ground to mark their future territory that would come to stay within their families for generations to come - amazing how wealth can be so arbitrary, but there you go. Anyone who's seen Far and Away with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman will remember the last scene when the crazed scientologist literally punches his horse to ride like a maniac for his towering Aussie then-wife Nicole to claim his plot of land. It's a frenetic scene to say the least.

After watching this scene, you might have a decent idea of what it's like to claim a table at Picante on a Friday night. Enter the establishment and you'll be confronted with a sign instructing you to first order and then claim a table. This is all fine a dandy, although when there is a virtual sea of patrons all standing in line discussing their Mexican feast, the volume quickly rises along with the tension for there is the imminent doom of having to fight for a table.

I order, take my fancy electronic server device and I'm off. I run right, left, crisscross and all over. I look to my left and see a family of four beating an elderly couple; to my right I see an elderly couple beating a family of four; in front of me there are small children - feral - like they've been there for weeks following their burrito feast vying for survival and gnawing on the bones of their carne asada. In the back drop, there is a man with a head set shouting orders like a drill officer. In the insanity, I squint my eyes and make out a lone table out back by the fountain. I make a B-line and hope to find a white flag with my name on it.

I arrive in panic waiting for my fancy electronic server device to fulfill its purpose. The man arrives with a foil wrapped tube of pleasure. It's big and I look forward to a feast. I've ordered a rajas con papas burrito with 'slices of roasted poblano chile strips, onions and potatoes with crema'. I take my first bite and am quickly struck with a realization: burritos on the East Bay differ from burritos in 'The City'. Similar to the burrito that Sal Savirdy discusses in her review of Mi Casa in Walnut Creek, the style of this particular burrito is a such that it is a veritable meal one would find on a plate, wrapped in a tortilla. Of course, one might rebutt: 'but the nature of the burrito is derived from the fact that it was a Mexican meal wrapped in a tortilla' and this would be true. However, I would contest that the Mission style burrito, having been around since 1961, has superseded it's own derivation and become a burrito rather than a meal in a tortilla.

It is a somewhat pleasurable experience as I finish the Mexican-meal-in-a-tortilla and wash it down with a well earned Corona. I sit back and admire my plot of land knowing that I have worked hard to arrive at this position in my life, taking solace in knowing that may family is set until the next recession. The experience is difficult to express and perhaps Sal describes it best as a 'subversion of the burrito norm'.

I ponder this philosophical conundrum; it's tasty but not memorable. Saying this, I keep in mind the norms are stretched and America, while it's currency is devaluing, was built by those random peoples running like Asian Doles along the prairie hoping to take part in constructing a new paradigm. Keeping with the analogy, I for one would invest in gold taking into consideration that there would be Tom Cruises running around on a horses like dogs in heat.

(Tom searching for a table at Picante)

Salsa Rating: Frenetically Warm

Where's the Burrito Eater Gone?

 

If you are visiting the Burrito Eater website, you'll be confronted with the following: 'We've stepped away from Burritoville, USA for an extended spell, but you can look for our panel to rise from our month-long siesta by late May. In the meantime, hold the fort, carry on, etc.' Please keep a keen eye out for him and let us know if you identify his whereabouts... 

Mucho Wraps, 375 Moraga Way, Moraga.

Written ( in Haiku form) by Sal Savirdy

Chicken Burrito: 

Not strictly a Burrito,

With beef bits inside.

Salsa Rating: Mild

El Faro's Hugo Ontiveros, Superman and the 'Super Burrito'

Written by Casey Deeha

It is time that the truth is revealed. Everyday across this great area - the Bay Area - burritos are consumed in the thousands and among them: the 'super' burrito. And with the imminent release of the most recent installment into the Superman franchise, The Man of Steel , I thought to ask: is the 'super' in super burrito as poignant and descriptive as the 'super' in Superman or is it as arbitrary as caffeine? Who better to turn to for such ruminations than Hugo Ontiveros, son of Febronio Ontiveros, innovator of the Mission Style Burrito in 1961 at El Faro in the Mission. 

Let's paint the picture: we're in the Mission, it's 1961 and the cultural and social renaissance is taking place. Carlos Santana, once a resident of the Mission, has just released a live album and the 68ers have set the backdrop for the 'summer of love' to pave the way as a future lucrative marketing campaign. Political and cultural dissent is rife in the air and Carlo Santana sits down at a table at El Faro to order what will soon become known to the world as The Super Burrito.

'I remember when Carlos Santana used to come in and have a burrito,' says Hugo; 'he was like everyone in those days, he had his specific burrito.' Indeed, at El Faro, since 1961, patrons were choosing among a range of fresh Californian ingredients to create what has now become known as the 'Mission Style Burrito'. 'It was a crazy time,' says Hugo, 'everyone was coming in and out - there were a lot of people.'

Fast forward nine years and the late Christopher Reeves adorns the silver screen with a breathtaking rendition of the man of steel; I surely didn't see any wires. Of course, Christopher Reeves wasn't even a glimmer in the eyes of Hugo Ontiveros in 1969 - for Hugo, Superman was still soldered to the pages of the comic books that fulfilled long summer days. 'We were into Superman those days, of course,' says Hugo as they would constantly have to add the usual 'addendum' ingredients to their 'regular' El Faro burrito: guacamole, sour cream, and extra cheese. 'This happened all the time and my friends and I wanted to give it a name, and because we were into Superman, we called it the Super Burrito'.

Wow. Arbitrary? Maybe, but perhaps not as arbitrary as one would think. Unquestionably, one immediately associates the 'super' in Super Burrito with size and quality increase, and where this is an empirical truth, this quality of the super burrito is not its derivative. Taking 'super' as a qualitative improvement on flavor perhaps links this characteristic more closely to the original super hero status in that, the 'regular burrito,' like a Clark Kent becomes 'super' when adorning itself with these special qualities. Curious, considering that Clark Kent must disguise his 'true' nature by becoming a seemingly pedestrian earthling, then perhaps the 'regular' burrito is in a constant state of supressed superness until one releases its true super nature. However, this only holds true when the analogy turns on itself and I am left to wonder.

Arbitrariness is never as arbitrary as we would think. I'm sure Carlos and Hugo had these conundrums in mind in 1969. Until these mysteries are solved, I urge people to release the super-hero-burrito in all of us...

Superman orbits the earth while the sun sets and John Williams' Superman fanfare plays on and fades away...