Culture Shock.

Every time it’s a surprise. A delicious surprise, but nonetheless, a surprise. I always forget that things are a bit different down here. Burritos are not burritos here. I’m not sure if Northern California is the mutation or if it’s a Lo Cal thing, but either way you chew it, these tortilla-filled cousins are still both delicious.
I’ve spent a lot of years comparing and contrasting Mexican food from the two California’s and have come to some realizations. The burritos are better in the North, while tortas are better in the South. (Tortas are NEVER supposed to be served on sourdough, thankyouverymuch.) Rolled tacos just ain’t happening north of LA, so any visit to the southland needs them. I find myself getting stuck on tortas and rolled tacos, but this time I pledged to be different. The name of this website is BURRITOwings after all.

When you order a carne asada burrito in San Diego, that’s exactly what you’re going to get. Always a little salsa and guacamole thrown in, but predominately it is meat, meat and more meat. It’s hard to wrap my head around the concept of “missing” ingredients being a good thing, but hey, I’m not one to judge the locals. (Just eat their delicious, delicious food). The steak is different, chewy-er and larger pieces for sure, making for a satisfying bite, but a couplea few pieces of the steak couldn’t be broken down enough and ended up as stringy pieces of beef spit out into a wadded up napkin. That’s the risk you run with big pieces of meat though – sometimes a bite size just isn’t.
This burrito held the course, but not together. I found myself racing to finish before the bottom dropped out and I was left with a juicy goo of meat juice on my orange plastic cafeteria tray. Between the stringy bits and the pool of excess, it made not for a sexy burrito. Perhaps better suited for a knife and fork treatment (gasp!) due to its loose wrap, I cannot altogether say that I was totally unimpressed. It was delicious and very satisfying. But in retrospect that may have something to do with the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day. (Since when did they stop giving out those nickel-bags of pretzels on airplanes? Cheep! Cheep!)

The primary reason for El Indio’s existence is that it’s a tortilleria. Anybody who has ever gone there remembers those awesome chips – the one’s with the “red stuff”. However in my hunger induced state I simply forgot to order some up. Any opinions offered here should be tempered with that knowledge. Pretzel depravation and culture shock prevented this review from being anything but a good ol’ San Diego mexfood experience. Clearly more research is needed. Hopefully those delicious rolled tacos and tortas can stay out of the way. Or not. Either way it’s win-win deliciousness.