We sauntered up to the window and asked for an extra spicy burrito, to which Tacos El Paisano's Mister Slabmaker Fella directed us to the selection of salsas on the sill of the burrito truck, suggesting we supply him with as little or much spice-infusion as we could muster. So, muster we did. Result: Three-alarm — and ten-mustache — pepper-fire that provided ideal accompaniment to everything else within the mildly grilled tortilla...but still enough parched moments to where we wanted to put a boot in the ass of the party responsible for choosing the salsa in the first damn place. This densely packed lunch had hot bites, tight construction, and solid intangibility in its avowed favor, but certain problems persisted throughout. The fully melted cheese contributed just a little too quietly to be taken seriously, while a couple fatty cuts of the vaguely flavorful pork kind of turned us off; there was also much rice at times, and by “much,” we really mean “too much,” which definitely had something to do with the parched moments noted above. And even if the guacamole was friendly and the cilantro smiley, the pinto beans were sorta mean. Yet the thing still scratched out a highly respectable rating — further proof that fairness sometimes just brings on the confusion.