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901 Taravalcross street: 19th Ave.
ph. 415/661-3303
Map Visits: 2
Crowd-free Sunset Taq. underwent an unusual makeover in spring 2009, changing its name from Island Café and de-emphasizing its menu’s Hawaiian slant in favor of more continental fare. (The place was known as Taq. El Sol for a short time in mid 2009 before likely getting the cease-and-desist smackdown from the same-named taqueria near Union Square.) All your favorite Mexican entrées are now available, in addition to burgers and standard American breakfasts, but it’s the “specialty burritos” on Sunset’s menu that truly set the place apart: Spam, hash browns, and even kalua pork play central roles in these Pacific archipelago-friendly slabs. One breakfast burrito has the moxie to feature three kinds of pork. Pro: bottled beer available; credit cards accepted. Con: remarkably flavor-deficient chips. Shrug: shiny, window-side two-top booths with immediate views of the six-lane state highway right outside. No joke: spam.
Shrug: rice (7); vegetables (7); sauciness (6); spiciness (6)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
Ever emerge surprised from a restaurant where you expected nothing more than mediocrity? Our panel has experienced this twice now during visits to Sunset Taq., which again sidestepped certain makings of burrito-night-gone-horribly-wrong to ring up another exceptional mustache rating. This fine slab may not have been worth its ridiculously steep price, but it got it done right. The kalua pork, which essentially came off like a smokier pull of carnitas, was tasty enough and rightly textured, while all the beautifully melted cheese diverted some — only some — of our attention away from the overly moderate spice. The ingredient mix put pretty much everything in all the right places, and the excellent refried beans picked up slack left behind by the merely ordinary brown rice. The burrito wasn’t necessarily dry, but it could have done with a bigger infusion of salsa. Did we mention that hot bites abound? Well, hot bites abound. And even though the pico de gallo and light guacamole didn’t quite cover all the veggie bases, they did so adequately enough. Intangibility was irrefutable. Now, why so damn expensive? What is this, Honolulu?
Shrug: size (7); meat (7); rice (7); ingredient mix (7)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
A sucker-punch 8.5’er if there’s ever been one, this burrito played the “quietly effective” card all the way to our mustache bank. Yes, it was a shade on the small side, and the just-adequate carne asada did little to distinguish itself. Elsewhere in mediocreland, the Spanish rice was clumpy and nothing special, while the overall mix, though unremarkable, at least improved the further down we drilled. Everything else, however, was on the mark, from the full-tilt spice and crash-proof construction on through the righteously grilled tortilla and strong melted cheese performance. The fact that the burrito was well-sauced -- and tastily sauced -- through and through was a welcome event, and with batches of rustic refried beans and glurgy guacamole on hand, as well as unfailing intangibility, El Sol seemed destined for eight-mustache (and then some) success its first time through our rigorous mustache mill. Nice work.
