Swish: spiciness (10); rice (9); burstage abatement (9); size (8); tortilla (8); beans (8); vegetables (8)
Shrug: meat (7); sauciness (7)
Clang: cheese (5); ingredient mix (5); temperature (5)
Intangibility bonus: 1 (of 2)

Hefty, stumpy, weighty, and yet prone to a trifecta of clang-worthy element ratings, this tasty enough lunch had our judges panel baffled as to how it managed to ratchet up the vaguely respectable rating it did. Spice was indeed as booming as it could be, and the bloated grains of Spanish rice really were that great. The multi-person assembly line behind Taco Del Mar’s counter skimped on the delicious braised (shredded) chicken, and there was a bit of minor seepage with which we had to deal. But good grief, we’ve had better mixed burritos around the corner at Chipotle, and that’s no compliment: The lousy ingredient integration resulted in off-putting temperature dips, embarrassing patches of unmelted cheese, and frowns.

Our second widemouth Taco Del Mar foodblimp in as many months was a bloated shredded beef opus that gamely wedged itself into our almost-great-but-not-quite file. And holy smokes, was it spiced to the gills. What it lacked in length, it more than made up in heft and girth - this was no lithe lunch. An unflashy and pale steamed tortilla made the introductions; immediately, we were entrenched in a jungle of tastily moist beef, fat-grain rice, and towering spice. Unfortunately, an integration-poor ingredient mix sequestered the pico de gallo and slices of jalapeño away from the beef and beans/rice foundation, so this dirigible wasn’t as fully heated as it could have been. The dual jack/cheddar blend made minimal impact, and given the minor temperature inequities, some cheese shreds remained undermelted. The first ingredient to hit a Taco Del Mar burrito is generally guacamole, a novel concept that doesn’t quite work from an equal distribution standpoint. All the fiery salsa roja promoted tortilla soggage in certain spots, but our judges panel was impressed by the little-seen-but-much-tasted refried beans. Spice earned every last hair of its noble ten mustaches, but it wasn’t quite enough to push this short slab over the eight-‘stache threshold.

Few things blindside our panel of judge-doofuses quite like a debut scud that comes in hard-chargin’ and a-hammerin’ – particularly when it’s from a multinational chain that boasts a staggering 23 locations in British Columbia alone (including one in the mighty Squamish). But give Taco Del Mar’s burrito a heap of credit, as it sidestepped a few minor shortcomings on its way to mustachioed glory. By way of the geometric formula known in burrito circles as the Stubby Property (slight shortness + supreme heft + chunky girth = one stubby slab), this foodpiece brought exceptional shredded pork and refried beans, secure construction, and a perfect run of hot bites to our table. The pork’s molé sauce wasn’t as high-profile as that of certain local competitors, but the tasty, habañero-scorched sauce more than allayed any related concerns. Some notable brown rice made it happen all slab long, while the guacamole was thick and rich, if ill-located in three specific spots. We’ll briefly grouse about the steamed tortilla that promoted roof-of-mouth stickiness (it’s never fun), as well as the meager grates offered of their routine jack/cheddar blend. But we found these sins negligible, given this burrito’s surprising knack for pinning the tail of intangibility on the burro-donkey. Beats the fancypants off Chipotle, in our book.