Our first (mostly) meatless foray into Chipotle’s burrito menu resulted in an Overall Mustache Rating so shameful, the more ornery members of our judges panel almost had to be restrained from bum-rushing the kitchen. Given the absence of one of Chipotle’s consistent strengths — meat — we admittedly had low hopes from the get-go for this all-too-typically-squatty slab. But even with these subterranean expectations, we never could have imagined so many straight-from-the-fridge bites. The guacamole, though tasty and thick as ever, sent the temperature of everything around it straight to some frozen-over hell — the fully unmelted Jack cheese grates, the too-raw slices of purple onion and green bell pepper, all of it. And the ingredient mix! Truly horrendous...none more divisive. We could have fed a village with all the white-cilantro-lime rice shoehorned into this monstrosity, and while it’s not that it ever tastes necessarily bad to us, it simply seems inappropriate in Chipotle’s otherwise straight-faced burritos. But hey, at least it was fairly warm. Now, hats off to Chipotle’s bacon-hinted pinto beans, which ruined the vegetarian-ness of this burrito and was also another welcome warm element. Spice crept along nicely throughout, and everything held together fairly well. We’re not too sure where that single-mustache intangibility bonus came from, but there it is, alright. Any taqueria with the chutzpah to play an Edie Brickell song in public at this point must be good for a little shock value, at least.

Looked like a Chipotle blimp, all stumpy and chunky. Tasted like one, too. But, this being Chipotle, there were the usual issues, such as the preponderance of cilantro-lime white rice, and lazy integration that gave the interior of this burrito the three-way look of Neapolitan ice cream: rice here, beans and sundry items here, meat and other materials there. No less than three people collaborated on the construction of this barely foiled lunch, so you’d think one of them would have heard the sad song the ingredient mix was singing and tried to make it better. Think again. Aside from these gaffes and some disheartening temperature shifts, however, this burrito enjoyed a good number of credible moments – many of which were sponsored by the flavor-rich carnitas, furious red tomatillo salsa, bacon-touched pinto beans, and rad $1.40 guac. The flimsily steamed tortilla had some tough moments supporting the mass of ingredient weight, but fortunately, burstage never became a serious concern. Anyway, we’ll be the last to say we actually tasted the juniper berries in the carnitas, but the first to say the deliciously braised pork totally owned it.