cross street: 44th Ave.
Map Visits: 4
Shrug: tortilla (7); meat (7); cheese (7); sauciness (7)
Clang: spiciness (1)
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
OK. It’s time to go back to the phones.
Chris in the Inner Sunset here. I know you’ve had great success with a slew of taquerias in the Avenues over the years. Do you put El Beach Burrito on par with Gordo, El Burrito Express, etc.?
First off, please, no golf analogies. Maybe you like golf? As for El Beach Burrito being on the same level on those other heavyweights, the short answer is: no. The longer answer, for those looking to go “inside golf” with me on tonight’s show: Hall of fame taquerias such as Gordo and El Burrito Express don’t ignore you when you request “extra spicy.” They also melt their cheese thoroughly every time.
Hi, it’s Maria in Divisadero Heights. You were kind of rude to me last time I called in, but your site is useful to me so I’ll let it slide, even if you make fun of my neighborhood’s name. How come you’re being so hard on El Beach Burrito if they pulled off the highly uncommon feat of a ten-mustache ingredient mix?
The Beach Burrito’s mix in this latest scud was indeed a monster. Why’s that so rare on today’s taqueria scene? Who really knows? Still, as crucial as it is to ensure all burrito ingredients play well together, the tortilla should be grilled (this one wasn’t), the pork chunks ought to be juicier and livelier (these weren’t), and again with the not-entirely-melted cheese. As for “Divisadero Heights,” come on. You’re a realtor and you made that name up.
Hey. I’m Janie. I live in the Mission. I haven’t been out of my neighborhood in two months. There are burrito places west of Church St.? Really?
A couple, yeah. There’s this place way out on Judah called El Beach Burrito, a few blocks in from the Pacific Ocean. Guac involvement can be heavy (at the taqueria, not in the ocean), but it doesn’t weigh down the overall veggie input. The place crafts a dense burrito, and the rice/beans foundation on this last visit was solid. No temperature complaints or construction issues to report, either.
Hi! It’s Linda in Orinda. I miss living in San Francisco, and your site isn’t helping. How’d this beachy burrito rate on your intangibility meter?
Despite its baffling aversion to spiciness, it still rang up the maximum intangibility rating of two mustaches. How? I don’t know...it’s intangible.
Shrug: size (7); tortilla (7); meat (6); spiciness (6)
Clang: sauciness (4)
Intangibility bonus: 1 (of 2)
Can a burrito’s mix be too successful in its quest to integrate ingredients? Rarely, but...yes. El Beach Burrito’s recipe for an AM slab demands an all-in grilling of chorizo, fried egg, roasted potato, onion, cheddar, and jack, and while there was no denying the seamlessness of the ensemble, the experience was not unlike what smoking jacket-clad music types mean when they prattle on from their premium audio-wired houses of the holy about “the need for separation of instruments” and the like. The charry chorizo’s ultralow profile didn’t help the issue of facelessness – we’re accustomed to meat being a major player in our breakfast burritos – but...good grief, now it looks like we’re grousing about a nine-mustache ingredient mix, so we’ll cut it short. Elsewhere within the medley, the rather tart guacamole jumped out of the taste spectrum way more than we’re used to, but the layer of flawless, Slabby-worthy refried beans distracted us every time they reared on up, which fortunately was pretty often. And we liked those potato chunks, so just back off about that, alright? Finally, we’d be remiss if we missed the opportunity to wrap this review by employing one of our favorite off-target phrases: Saucity? Paucity.