Brett
Google
So I’ve been lurking on this place for weeks like a hungry ex on Instagram, and I finally gave in. No regrets.
I went all in on the Chicano Burrito-a majestic, overachieving cylinder of joy stuffed with pastor, fries, hot Cheetos, sour cream, and nacho cheese. Yeah, it costs fifteen bucks, but let’s be honest: that’s not a burrito, it’s a lifestyle choice. You’re basically buying lunch, dinner, and the right to take a strategic nap afterward.
The first bite hit me like a reggaetón beat at full volume; loud, unexpected, and impossible not to enjoy. Flavor explosion. Texture perfection. Zero shame. I told myself I’d save half for later, but I blacked out and next thing I know, gone. Whole thing.
I’m now completely useless at work, questioning my life decisions, and already planning my next visit.
5 stars. Would sacrifice my afternoon productivity again.
Also, for the sake of humanity, I’ve uploaded clearer photos of the menu—because the ones that were here before looked like they were taken with a potato during an earthquake. You’re welcome.