I had last week off work. So I decided to set myself the challenge of having a burrito every day. You don’t need to trawl through to the end, I will put my hands in the air here and now and admit to a big fat burrito fail. I didn’t have the stamina. I will get into burrito training though and one day, soon, I shall rise to the challenge and achieve burrito supremacy.
I hadn’t decided to set the challenge on Monday morning, but there was a skirt that I wanted that wasn’t in my size anywhere in central London so when I woke up I set myself a different challenge entirely. Off I trotted to Bluewater. I say trotted, it’s in a whole other county so I actually went by car on my hunt for the elusive skirt. The elusive skirt remains elusive, I couldn’t find it and had to leave Bluewater skirtless. Well, apart from the skirt I was already wearing (so not literally skirtless). My failure to track down the skirt upset me and left me with time on my hands so I went back to the source of my burrito obsession. The Chilango in Bluewater. I knew what to order this time though and went for a steak one, with medium salsa. It was, predictably, lovely. Skirt? What skirt?
Tuesday was pancake day. It was also International Women’s Day. More importantly it was also my birthday. I started off the day by meeting my sister, the very lovely @lucyarathbone, in music & notes (thanks go to the esteemed burritologist @jasonbstanding for the recommendation) . Lucy had never had a burrito before so, like any good sister, I wanted her frist time to be special. I considered going to Wahaca but I wanted Lucy to eat her first burrito in her hands, I also considered Mas Burrito as I had not been there before (it’s on the list. I repeat it is on the list) but it was because I had not been there before that I steered us round the corner to Benito’s Hat. I knew Benito’s Hat and I knew it was good. One of the nice things about Benito’s Hat for any burrito virgins is that they’ve plastered instructions and options on the wall so it’s a less daunting experience than other places who will remain nameless
Benito's Hat 8th March
My linguist friend wanted to see the John Stezaker exhibition at the Whitechapel Art Gallery and I wanted a burito. We decided to combine forces and met up in Liverpool St. I’d not been toPoncho 8. The queue extended quite a long way outside but we were not to be thwarted by this. It’s a nice bright shop with stripy floors. The staff were all wearing hairnets, even the bloke. I appreciate health & safety and I appreciate that people don’t want to find hair in their food, but is there anything uglier than a hair net? I assume it was because it was busy but the service, while friendly enough was slightly brusque. I do prefer the perky helpful friendliness of Adobo, Picante and Chilango, however efficient brusque makes you. Actually they weren’t that efficient – normally you get asked if you want things like salsa, and if you’re a hardened burrito eater you know to ask for things if they’re not offered. This was only my friend’s second burrito so when they didn’t offer him salsa he didn’t notice. It was only when he tried mine and I told him which salsa I’d gone for that he realised. As a result his packed slightly less flavour and was a bit too dry.
The tables, rather disconcertingly had bottles of hand wash on them, they also had lime quarters which added a nice extra bit of colour and, if you chose to squeeze, a bit more zing to the burrito
There was too much tortilla – (see below) and although this was certainly a nice enough burrito it lacked the depth of flavour and the way that every single mouthful tasted different of the burritos of the previous two days
Too much wrap, not enough flavour