Swish: size (8); tortilla (8); temperature (8); burstage abatement (8)
Shrug: spiciness (7); rice (6); beans (6)
Clang: meat (5); vegetables (5); ingredient mix (4); sauciness (3); cheese (1)
Intangibility bonus: 0 (of 2)

This foiled disaster clanged more ominously than the intro to “Hells Bells,” as Tacos El Tonayense’s usually reliable kitchen managed to botch more elements of this Sunday burrito than it didn’t. Tiny, tiny shreds of jack cheese appeared to be untouched by any heat and looked pathetic in the process, while Tonayense’s weird sauce (which we’ve enjoyed in the past) was severely off its game this time, and the infusion of rail-thin guacamole sure didn’t help the cause. As for the roast pork, this Mission slabwagon’s slabmaker clearly dipped into two different bins of poorly cut carnitas for our burrito – one labeled “mushy,” the other labeled “leathery.” Neither style much worked for us, although at least the latter batch didn’t instantly dissolve upon biting into it. As for the ingredient mix, it took it upon itself to screw up distribution of spice and rice, as well as the chopped onion / cilantro steez. Our reaction? A round of hearty booing. Between the ill-flavored sauce’s domination, the weird pork, and the numbskulled mix, there was nothing swashbuckling about this burrito, nothing at all. An unmitigated train wreck.

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

With an immeasurable amount of intangible deliciousness delivering the knockout blow here, this burrito’s segregative ingredient mix – the sole misgiving on our foiled lunch’s corresponding scoresheet – was mercifully declared a forgivable sin by our high ‘n’ mighty panel of mustachioed morons. Tonayense’s pure-ambrosia salsa reigned supreme yet again, its X-factor perhaps stemming from the conventional wisdom-defying addition of thin, yet fierce guacamole. Meanwhile, spice wreaked serious havoc top to bottom, and the refried beans in particular stood out in their excellence. Much chopped onion and cilantro combined to offset the lack of diced tomato in the pico de gallo, and nothing resembling a cool bite ever reared up. Sure, it could have been girthier, the overly diced steak could have wielded a greater flavor-hammer, and the tortilla would have done well to take its spot on the grill a bit more enthusiastically. Despite it all, this effort still won our hearts.

Excellent bits of grilled chicken and a hellacious spiciness possibly endorsed by Lucifer himself kept this burrito in the thick of things throughout. By the end, its overall intangible allure had outperformed its respectable, yet hardly outstanding rating. A few lukewarm bites did their best to sour this slab, as did an overabundance of rice and the mysterious disappearance of the requisite cheese. Initial concerns about the guacamole’s thinnish consistency gave way to the realization that it actually augmented the burrito’s fine sauciness. Furthermore, the omnipresent chicken was remarkably well-peppered, the pinto beans stood in just fine for our favored refrieds, and the whole thing played slightly over its head to its credit. Now let’s all chip in and get this truck a steamer to ensure hot bites all around.