Swish: size (9); meat (8); beans (8); temperature (8); burstage abatement (8)
Shrug: vegetables (7); eggs (7); cheese (6); sauciness (6); spiciness (6); ingredient mix (6)
Clang: tortilla (5); rice (4)
Intangibility bonus: 1 (of 2)

Hey, we didn’t want any rice in this one. And if we had wanted rice, we sure as hell didn’t want a metric ton of it. And if we had wanted a metric ton of rice, we would have preferred it to be smartly mixed in with all the other ingredients. You get the drift. The menu above Taq. Zapata's kitchen slyly didn’t mention rice in the breakfast burrito, but this morningtime slab, humongous as it was, had plenty of problems besides the unwanted (and unflavorful) granary element, which itself hogged a good lateral half of this foiled effort. A list of these adverb-modified letdowns would have to include: the sorrily unfortunate mix, which finally introduced Zapata’s lovingly pasty refried beans on bite no. 7; the patently ordinary level of intangibility; one of the most unappealingly chewy tortillas we’ve ever laid teeth on; and finally, by unpopular demand, the weirdly baffling anti-return of Invisi-guac™! Those of you still with us after that messily messy mess of a sentence will enjoy the good things we have to say about Taq. Zapata’s breakfast burrito – mainly, the on-target chorizo (marred only by unnecessary grease), and...hey, nice beans, alright. Clunk.

Emiliano Zapata may have been one revolutionary dude, but this burrito at his namesake burritoteria staged no coup on our taste buds. To its minor credit, Taq. Zapata’s special burrito (we chose it over their super burrito for its sour cream exclusion) was the portrait of consistency on our 10-Mustache Scale: a torrent of sevens and eights, with a few stray sixes levied due to an overly sticky tortilla and some partly melted jack cheese. Very respectably sized in every direction, but only mildly hot from end to end, this unadventurous slab was constrained by its own lack of ambition. Zapata’s spicy chicken may have been tastily impressive in its chunky moistness and politely fiery menace, and the peppery pico de gallo sure knew its way around the cutting board of good taste. And the pale, pea-spackled, and gentle rice made no enemies within the tortilla. Unfortunately, the refried beans remained too far under the radar, and far more shamefully, part of the tortilla became one with the foil at the burrito’s hind end. That’s never a good way to sign off.

Zapata’s steel-toed spice may have put the boot through our grill, but overly dry rice played too great a role in this burrito’s fortunes. And yet, the ultimate dealbreaker here was the fact that their beef is shredded – it’s of course all in the mouth of the beholder, but it’s just not our thing. Don’t they do that at Jack in the Box? In warmer news, at least the grim reaper of cold bites and his scythe of chilled lettuce were held at bay.