There was certainly no denying this burrito’s fierce spice-kick, crash-proof construction, and perennial sauce factor. Unfortunately, there was plenty denying a handful of other underachieving elements here, from vegetable deficiencies and jarring temperature inconsistencies to an ingredient mix mostly responsible for those jarring temperature inconsistencies in the first place. While we enjoyed the hot side of this fairly sized slab well enough, the blame for the several sub-warm bites went straight to the poorly integrated guacamole, the taste of which wasn’t even all that remarkable to begin with. The refried beans did a nice imitation of pintos — much beans, little paste — and while the grilled chicken was adequately flavorful and the chief recipient of El Faro’s top-rank salsa, our panel members agreed that it could have been a little less tough. But hey: one napkin, alright. The final survey here, however, said “mediocre,” and little more.

Stupendous length and beltbusting heft/girth loudly introduced this foiled effort, so things got off to a sharp start even before bite one hit our judges panel square in the yob. But despite its entirely respectable rating, this burrito couldn’t ditch its cheesesteak-in-slab’s-clothing identity. Not that it wasn’t a tasty or, moreover, an interesting eat – it was, and it was – but after enough bites that included grilled / long-cut onion, green bell pepper, the odd piece of mushroom, and of course, big cuts of cheese-slathered beef, we started looking around for a Tastykake chaser and the next bus to the Dr. J and Rocky Balboa statues out at the Spectrum. Sadly, the carne asada came off flat-tasting, without much flavor-bite to it, and we’re rarely impressed these days with El Faro’s too-creamy guacamole (usually the first ingredient to hit the tortilla here). The cheddar/jack cheese was an overly gooey mess, but with salsa roja this well-dispersed and rice this tip-top, we let it slide. The ingredient mix was fine enough, with the usual gaffe of separated rice acting as the main strike against it. Even though it was hot and well-built, with only vague hints of spiciness, this was clearly the Jack Klugman burrito. Steak-umm, don't hurt 'em.