Burritoville

The Netscape-friendly hunt for the perfect urban food log.

Friday, October 29, 2004

The latest Googlewhack: burritorodomontade. (Break words between "to" and "ro.") Surprise, surprise: It's a football-related site. I didn't know the NFL knew words that big!

Our old Googlewhack, burrito ultramontane, is now up to 27 sites, some of them definitely adult-only content. ("Porn the Internet? No kidding!") Obviously, somebody is mining the Whack Stack for commercial purposes.

Finally, in honor of Friday catblogging, I give you this image of a cat burrito.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

Also, I suppose I should mention the new template.

Notice the new template: It allows comments. The old template had the frijoles refritos/chile colorado colors, but it did not allow comments.

The new template reminds me of one of those spinach tortilla burritos from 360 Gourmet (shudder). Or maybe guacamole. Whatever.


Sunday, October 24, 2004

About once a year I find myself attending a night meeting in Vacaville. Isn't that the greatest name in the world for a small town? Vacaville. It's about halfway between Oakland and Sacramento, and there is a Budweiser factory nearby.

So I asked a group of 20-something Vacavillians where I should stop for a burrito beforehand. There was initial chaos -- there are a LOT of burrito places in downtown Vacaville! Who knew? -- but gradually a consensus emerged: For a cheap, good burrito, go to Tacos Jalisco (312 Cernan St.)

I went. Two of the 20-somethings met me there. (Could it be because I had promised them free food?) We had a chile verde burrito, a ground beef super burrito and a quesadilla grande ("I'm sorry; I had a burrito for lunch," that dining companion confessed.) It was cheap -- the three of us ate for about $16, including tax and my glass of horchata. It was atmospheric -- those heavy patterned plastic tablecloths I associate with a certain type of Mexican restaurant; calendar art on the walls, and waitresses who appeared to be related to each other and to the chef. It was also not too darn bad -- the first bite of chile verde was as tender as butter, with a serious kick in the follow through. In fact, the only place I can fault Tacos Jalisco is in the chips -- they're like Doritos instead of being made from actual tortillas. It helps if you put some of the high-octane green sauce on them.

The next day, one of the girls at work asked how I liked it. She prefers El Tejaban (871 Merchant St., about three blocks from Tacos Jalisco). Well, something to look forward to next year.