When I took my new job in San Diego, I was excited for several reasons. But one of the trivial thoughts that occurred in my mind was "YAY, I'm gonna get to eat some bomb ass Mexican food." Because you know, logically speaking I figured the closer I got to Mexico, the better the Mexican food would get... WRONG. I mean, I've had some GREAT Mexican food in San Diego, don't get me wrong. But this CLEARLY wasn't one of them.
A few months back I was visiting my friend at USD and we had said bomb ass Mexican food at a place called Super Bronco. I mean, it wasn't the absolute best I've had, but it was way better than the typical Albertos/Alertos/Filibertos/Albatross that's all over Orange County. So fast forward to today when I'm hungry and looking around for some bomb ass San Diego Mexican food and "El Bronco" pops up on my Yelp mobile app. I thought, Super Bronco, El Bronco ... YES! I found a local spot and it's gonna be great! At the very least it should be better than the two 2.5 star Albertos that popped up on the local search results.
As I'm driving on over, I pass by a Taco Bell, a Del Taco and even a Chipotle which happens to be in the same plaza as El Bronco and I think to myself, "Suckas...why would anyone eat at those gringo places if you can have yourself some Super/El Bronco." Later, I would eat those words because as I sat down and ate my $6 wet chicken burrito, I realized maybe I should have gone to Chipotle. Maybe gringo Mexican food is for me. Maybe I don't like real Mexican food. Especially if this is what real Mexican food is. Then I thought better and realized, no...this place is WHACK. I've HAD real Mexican food. The kind of Mexican food that is so good you wish you could crawl back into your mother's womb and be born again, but to a Mexican woman this time so you can eat this kind of delicious Mexican food everyday. And there's no way this was real Mexican food.
I don't even know where to begin in describing my meal experience. Initially, I was excited when the girl brought me my enormous plate of cheesy, saucy, heaping mound of wet chicken burrito madness. It was a sight to be seen. But then the smells, followed by the taste. It all went down hill. Like fast. About as fast as the housing market 3 years ago.
The sauce had a weird taste. I couldn't put a finger on it at first. Then I realized what it was. It tasted like a can of Chef Boyardee. No joke. You know that canned, metallic, preserved tomato taste you get when you open up that can of 59cent Chef Boyardee Spaghettios? No? Well I do, because I grew up eating it. THAT'S what this burrito tasted like. Then as I'm picking at the shredded chicken, it dawns on me. This isn't some 6 hour braised chicken that's been stewing in delicious spices all day. This is canned shit. Like literally. You know that Chicken of the Sea canned tuna? But actually chicken? The kind you pack in your emergency earthquake kit, hoping to never have to eat because the only thing worse than losing your home to a ravaging 7.8 earthquake is having to eat canned chicken for 5 days until society rebuilds itself? Yea, that's what was in my burrito. Disgusting.
I mean, come on North County! THIS is what you call Mexican food? I think I'll stick with Chipotle for now. At least until I find me some of that real bomb ass San Diego Mexican food I'm used to. read more