Swish: tortilla (10); burstage abatement (10); size (8); temperature (8)
Shrug: meat (7); rice (7); cheese (6); vegetables (6); sauciness (6); spiciness (6); ingredient mix (6)
Clang: beans (5)
Intangibility bonus: 1 (of 2)

We had zero complaints about this burrito’s construction, and its grilled-to–flaky tortilla was by far its finest attribute. Otherwise, we had a cavalcade of mediocrity on/in our hands here, from La Fajita’s capable, plentiful, and fervorless steak to its happy-to-be-there Spanish rice. This burrito’s cheese situation was particularly vexing, as it was either marvelously melted or collected in clumps in its original state — not much of a middle ground. The guacamole was quite flavorful, but other veggie involvement was sparse at best. Meanwhile, the ingredient that earned this burrito’s ultimate dunce cap was its austere pinto beans, drier than an English comic. The overall mix was less than the best, with cheese and spice dispersal strictly hit-and-miss. It all resulted in underachieving intangibility and, frankly, kind of a dull review here, no? Not even the curious wax paper under the single layer of foil seemed vaguely interesting in the end.

Swish: tortilla (10); cheese (10); vegetables (10); temperature (10); ingredient mix (9); burstage abatement (9); size (8)
Shrug: rice (7)
Clang: meat (5); sauciness (4); beans (3); spiciness (0)
Intangibility bonus: 1 (of 2)

La Fajita's eponymous, nicely sized slab looked fantastic, but good looks take an item only so far in this line of work. The Market St. taqueria's wise habit of returning every burrito to the grill ensured not only the most delectable tortilla this side of El Castillito a few blocks away, but a perfect abundance of hot bites as well. Otherwise, it was constant combat between forces of burrito-good and forces of burrito-evil. All that melted jack cheese provided loads of gooey enjoyment from top to bottom, but its ten-mustache success couldn’t disguise the complete, total, and inexcusably sorry absence of spice on hand. The incomparable vegetable medley of green bell pepper, tomato, much long-sliced onion, and thickly applied guacamole? Exceptional, all the way down to the left-field touch of grilled mushroom...but there was still no hiding the lima-like starkness of the whole pinto beans (special-ordered, along with the serviceable rice). And in many ways, La Fajita’s delicious-looking, but flavor-deficient steak was the poster ingredient for this woefully inconsistent dinner dirigible - and the disappointing lack of salsa didn’t help the cause, either. Even the sloppy foil wrap earned a one-mustache demerit under burstage abatement. Clearly, this slab’s bipolar tale was told by each clanging response for every two swishes registered. Flummoxing.

The Elvis ’68 burrito? Though certainly no victory coronation, this was a notable comeback after the total train wreck that was Cactus Fresh. It ran over eight bucks (including sales tax), it arrived unfoiled and sliced diagonally through the heart, and it was awkwardly clear that its rice harbored no ambition to mingle with any other ingredient. So when this burrito wound up with a final rating of 7.33 – without its bush-league halving trick, it surely would have been closer to 8.00 – nobody in the room looked more shocked than us. As unnecessary it was to hack this slab in half, and as shabby as the half-and-half ingredient mix was from the get-go, this burrito was no fools-food. The tortilla was delectably grilled under much cheese (ordered specially, along with their fine guacamole), and although it bore the appearance of an upscale Grilled Stuft Burrito due to its post-assemblage return to the grill, it all tasted mighty fine, it really did. Sucker-punch spice, well-mannered vegetable content, and plenty of pepper-flecked, charbroiled chicken each hit the high notes, and although it didn’t play well with others, the rice was nevertheless nice. Even the pinto beans came off without a hitch, and the burrito’s final bites were among the cheesiest of all time.