Swish: size (9); beans (8); spiciness (8)
Shrug: rice (7); vegetables (7); meat (6); ingredient mix (6); temperature (6)
Clang: tortilla (5); burstage abatement (4); cheese (3); sauciness (2)
Intangibility bonus: 0 (of 2)

Our second visit to La Carreta was, against all odds, even more clangorous that the first. Very impressive. But when the grates of jack cheese are this raw and unmelted, when the sauce-sodden tortilla is nothing more than a floury sieve, and when it’s clear from this cavalcade of lukewarm lameness that we’d rather be having a shwarma at Ali Baba’s Cave down the block...it’s moments such as these that underscore how dedicated to the burrito-eating task our panel members truly are. Kindly note that overly thin molé sauce plus piddly-poor construction generally equals a big mess at the taqueria table; that formula held true here, all the way down to the gaping gash at this burrito’s hind end. Almost as sadly, the pods of pulled chicken were mushier than the final season of Webster, but at least the Spanish rice and refried beans managed to not embarrass themselves in the same way. Spice kicked off feverishly, tapered off moderately, and remained a credible distraction as we navigated our way through this hopelessly woeful, sub-six-mustache minefield.

Over on Haight near Fillmore, where the competition between superb dining choices can overwhelm an empty stomach, La Carreta slapped us together this thoroughly sub-mediocre burrito - thin salsa roja, pockets of unmelted jack cheese, a blinding storm of rice within the soggy, pale, and steamed tortilla, and all. Early bites consisted of fine, but far overused Spanish rice, refried beans, chunks of chicken that should have been juicier, and barely anything else. As we drilled deeper into the ricefest, it became clear that the buried veggies and beans wouldn’t get much opportunity to properly foist their flavor upon the slab-at-large. Spice registered harmlessly on our hardcore pepper-meter, and the best things about this burrito – its barely acceptable overall heat index and cleave-happy construction – were really only best by default. Even its slightly humble sizing disappointed us. In a part of town accustomed to slabular greatness (Loco Taco Taq., Cuco’s, the late/great Botana and Las Mesas), it’ll be interesting to watch the neighborhood’s slab-snob denizens respond to such dull, substandard burritowork. Next time, it’s sausages for us at Rosamunde a few doors down.