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

It just goes to show what an overabundance of underqualified rice can do to an otherwise credible burrito. You can revel in a beautifully grilled tortilla that’s fragrant in all the right ways. You can get lost in juicy, real flavorful carne asada, steel toe-booted spice, or nicely tangy pico de gallo. You can shake your hips to the hella-avocado shuffle, or if that’s not your dance step of favor, the melted Jack watusi. You can thank the higher power of your choice — or just the guy in the kitchen — for the crash-proof construction and complete avoidance of cool bites. You can even soak in the two-mustache tub of maximum intangibility. And you know what? If damn near every bite is rife with Spanish mush-rice and way too much of it, you’ve got troubles. And if the burrito’s sauce factor is compromised (we won’t say “sucked dry,” because that wasn’t the case here) to the point of near-clang, well, hrumph. This is Taq. Can-cún. This is San Francisco! We expect better.

Swish: vegetables (10); size (9); cheese (9); temperature (9); burstage abatement (9); tortilla (8); rice (8); beans (8); sauciness (8)
Shrug: ingredient mix (7); meat (6)
Clang: spiciness (5)
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)

The opening salvo of the 2008 Slab Scrum, this sizable lunch hit on many of Taq. Can-cún’s usual talking points – ace vegetable content, melted jack cheese galore, clean construction, sky-high intangibility – but flubbed on a few other crucial fronts. At certain times, the ingredient mix seemed to bring everything together gracefully; at others, the burrito’s underserved portion of grilled (if bland) chicken, as well as its slight overemphasis on the fine-grain Spanish rice, didn’t do anyone any favors. Avocado and co. may have hit all the right notes, but spiciness danced the irksome too-little-too-late shuffle, which of course did little to appease our fire-breathing panel. Quite good overall, sure. But we expected better on the grand civic stage.

Swish: tortilla (10); cheese (10); temperature (10); vegetables (9); sauciness (9); burstage abatement (9); size (8); meat (8); rice (8); beans (8); spiciness (8); ingredient mix (8)
Shrug: no elements elicited shrugs
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)

Never mind the clangs – even with a magnifying glass, you couldn't have found a shrug at our Can-cún table during the glorious 16-bite existence of this near-heroic meal. We could nitpick away at how all the nine-mustache elements could have upped the ante a shade for toppermost ratings – the veggie gang for its overly light infusion of pico de gallo; the minor grease effect that hamstrung the sauciness ever so slightly; the slab-long vertical gulch in the wrap that we call “ingrown tortilla” – but...well, it appears as if we’ve gone ahead and nitpicked about these items, OK. Still, any Can-cún veggie ensemble is bound to include generous amounts of sliced avocado, while the grease and ingrown tortilla were minor details and nothing more. The tortilla itself was grilled all to hell (as they all ought to be, dammit), while every bite was a hot one - and just about every one held a big ol’ tuft of melted jack. The pork was well-sauced and accompanied by plenty of diced, grilled onion, and other than segregating the Spanish rice a bit too much for our liking, the ingredient mix did a fine job of showcasing everything at once, rather than just element by element. Shrug-free intangibility sealed the delicious deal.

Swish: cheese (10); vegetables (10); temperature (10); burstage abatement (10); tortilla (9); rice (9); spiciness (9); size (8); beans (8)
Shrug: meat (7); sauciness (7); ingredient mix (7)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)

We’re not sure what took Can-cún so long to hop aboard the carnitas trolley – fried pork had never before appeared on the menu here – but we were so happy to finally see it available, we took the porky plunge. Verdict: Heavy on salt, light on external crisp...but in the end, still pretty damn delicious. As for the rest of our Tuesday night slab, other than the serviceable level of sauciness and the merely capable ingredient mix, it was all systems go. Can-cún’s veteran kitchen nailed the basics (leakproof construction, a clean run of hot bites), but we were particularly impressed with the thick ooze of melted jack permeating most regions of the inner slab. Of course, the nine-mustache grilljob on the tortilla was on its usual high-level game, and few taquerias include as much avocado and diced onion as Can-cún. The light rice turned in a surprisingly outstanding performance, and the spice-fire factor here was never in doubt. There was the tiny matter of the marble-sized bone around the fourteenth bite, but we’ll let it go. Other than that, hey, rad burrito.

Can-cún’s sizable A.M. slab boasted some fantastic bites at certain points. It’s just a shame it couldn’t have been more intelligently built/mixed, and was all the rice that hogged an entire side of the tortilla really necessary? Then there was the whole grossly untidy grease issue – Burritoeater supports the tree-hugging cause as much as anyone else with a backpack and a pair of hiking boots, but it’s utterly silly to produce a burrito this runny and not have a napkin dispenser at every table in the room. The chorizo/egg scramble was a bit light on eggs, but it was real tasty from first bite to last (chorizo eterna-drip notwithstanding). Naturally, Can-cún’s perennial calling card – a hell of a vegetable medley - owned it, especially the mega-flavorful pico de gallo and some rad avocado slices. The burrito’s interior climate remained warm throughout, the freshly refried beans were particularly delicious in late morning, and you can always count on these people to offer hair-raising spiciness and some melted-all-over-the-tortilla cheese. So why the sorta laggard final rating? When a burrito sheds more grease than a crowd of sweat-soaked Reverend Horton Heat fans, there’s generally some messy trouble brewing. On a side note, Can-cún’s salsa verde knows few, if any peers.

Premium vegetable elements, particularly all-star avocado slices and pico de gallo. Abundant, yet underperforming steak. Cheese and sour cream mis-paired with sparse rice. Chubby, yet short. Unimpressive expectation-to-delivery ratio.