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

As pickled jalapeño and thick pads of melted Jack added drama to so many bites, our dunch at this dangerously situated taqueria laid down the cheesy, spicy law just off one of San Francisco’s dodgiest street corners. Despite Taq. Chile Verde’s namesake meat veering into carnitas-like texture-territory, we took a liking to its mighty flavor right away; the same went for the brilliantly grilled tortilla, despite it suffering consistent seepage throughout. Burstage abatement took a minor hit due to that seepage and some regularly scheduled floppiness, no surprise considering this burrito’s consequential grease factor. Tomato was strangely absent, but at least all our other pico de gallo favorites were on hand. Intangibility remained faultless, so our panel departed on an up note, just before receiving numerous invitations to violate a host of civic penal codes in broad daylight right outside the taqueria’s entrance.

Swish: tortilla (10); temperature (10); burstage abatement (9); size (8); cheese (8); vegetables (8); spiciness (8)
Shrug: meat (7); beans (7); rice (6); sauciness (6); ingredient mix (6)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 1 (of 2)

This burrito wore pressed trousers, charmed everyone at dinner, and had your daughter home by 11PM. And when she walked in, she sighed, Unspectacular burrito, and headed upstairs to bed. The tortilla was mega-grilled, like it’s done around the corner at rival Taq. Can-cún. Every bite sure was nice and hot. And other than some rice grains that went tumbling into the plastic basket, construction was airtight. But other than that, no spectacular moments were culled; rather, this lunch was simply a festival of good-enough-ness. The grilled, lightly seasoned chicken? Fine and all. The quietly effective, just-there refried beans? Sure. The melted jack cheese? Mmph. See where this is going? We appreciated the avocado, which added both veggie cred and greenery, and generous spice rose to the fore time and time again. But the divisive ingredient mix didn’t distribute the salsa roja, spice, or rice well at all, to the degree that some bites were moist and kickin’, while others were dry and limply bland. In a taqueria town like this, “good enough” is insufficient.

Looked good. Smelled alright. Every bite was a hot bite. So when Taq. Chile Verde’s super al pastor rang up a sub-mediocre mustache rating one afternoon, our panel of judges felt baffled and bamboozled. The tortilla did some significant time on the grill, but aside from this burrito’s consistent heat, no other elements merited serious kudos. Strange, since it held such promise when it landed in the red plastic basket. Marinated pork? Too greasy, and not nearly tasty enough. Vegetables? Some onion-rich pico de gallo and a few cuts of avocado that didn’t penetrate our taste buds quite enough. Spanish rice and refried beans? The former, alright; the latter, less so. Cheese? Disappointingly clumped, half-melted, and frankly, sort of vile-tasting – clearly this slab’s dealbreaker, since every cheese-inclusive bite was a downer. Spice remained middling throughout, and the ingredient mix landed in that no-man’s land between hmph and hrumph. Excuse our closing generality, but this burrito didn’t taste all that great at certain points.

Although it threatened recommendability at various stages, Chile Verde’s trump card of overwhelming flavor was never played. A curious outcome, considering the presence of all the right ingredients and a tortilla grilled with melted cheese. Then again, the steak was kind of laggard.