Swish: sauciness (10); ingredient mix (10); temperature (10); rice (9); vegetables (9); burstage abatement (9); size (8); beans (8); cheese (8); spiciness (8)
Shrug: tortilla (7)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)

It’s official: Word’s in from our people down in Archives that, at 8.91 mustaches, this was the highest-rated chile relleno slab on Burritoeater record to date. Unlike other fine chile relleno burritos down the ages, this one didn’t lean so heavily on cheese, although the twin-cam combo of Jack (sprinkled among the myriad ingredients) and panela (crammed inside the relleno itself) contributed to damn near every bite. More than anything, though, this nearly Hall of Fame-worthy scud drew its success from a seamless mix of top-rank ingredients, from excellent Spanish rice and appropriately gloopy guacamole to non-stop salsafication. Spice crept in and hung around all burrito long, while we couldn’t toss a refried bean without hitting some rad intangibility here or there, which says a lot about the intangible goodness of this lunch, seeing as how intangibility is intangible and all. Of course, food this memorable deserves better than that last misguided sentence.

Swish: sauciness (10); meat (9); temperature (9); burstage abatement (9); size (8); tortilla (8); rice (8); cheese (8)
Shrug: spiciness (7); ingredient mix (7); beans (6); vegetables (6)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)

Excellent chicken molé dominated this smartly sized slab-at-wash, and when it’s this delicious, we’re totally OK with that sort of arrangement. Trade-off: The marvelous landslide of molé came at the expense of bean and vegetable representation. Minor floppiness caused no major harm, while spice toed the seven-mustache line of adequacy. Intangibility shone brighter than the sharpest-looking 1992 Honda Prelude in the adjacent lot.

Certain taquerias go the finesse route, wooing our panel of judge-doofuses with smooth tortilla architecture, sleek spice, and seamless ingredient integration. This visit to Taq. El Balazo’s burrito counter at the car wash showcased an altogether different, mow-‘em-down construction style that bludgeoned us with titanic sizing and a wonderful, grill detritus-enhanced tortilla; on the bummer side of the ledger, a clumsy ingredient mix obscured a few important elements and created pockets of temperature drops. Plenty of excellent al pastor acted as this slab’s short-circuited lightning rod, offering supremely charred deliciousness while emitting enough grease to be labeled a gross pollutant by the state’s air resources board. A heady combination of jack and cheddar was mostly melted, although a few areas yielded solid grates amidst un-hot bites. El Balazo’s chunky guacamole was typically on the money, anchoring a fine group of vegetable additives, but we were disappointed with the under-generous amount of pale refried beans buried down in the hind end. And most regrettably, three-mustache spice simply abandoned ship and left its slabmates in the lurch. Intangible goodness persevered through all the madness, however.

Settled in the anteroom next to the tiny El Balazo kitchen, semi-safe from the all the car wash nuttery, we gamely analyzed this lengthy, slender, and ultimately high-scoring burrito whose insides were confoundingly mashy. Turns out the culprit was a combination of overly pasty refried beans and a set of carnitas that was a bit too soft, tender, and fatty for its own good. Otherwise, this one kicked a good deal of ass all around – the tortilla was warmly grilled, it was a portrait of perfect construction (helped to no end by its barely fed girth), and its delectably melted cheese and excellent vegetable medley merited many kudos. Nice sauciness and spiciness as well. But in the end, two large, gristly chunks of pork and the aforesaid mashiness made this one of the least recommendable 8+ mustache burritos in town.