cross street: 24th Ave.
ph. 415/387-4484
Map Visits: 12
Shrug: meat (7); rice (7); sauciness (7)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
It happens every time at Gordito. Mister Slabmaker Fella makes our burrito, and it looks less than impressive. Early bites reveal little of the greatness ultimately left in the foiled food's wake. And once all that remains is a pile of shiny foil, we realize: That was a goddamn good burrito.
So here was yet another quintessential Gordo slab — all minor flaws (slight undersaucing, merely capable poultry) and major successes (so many successes). Typically girthsome and wrapped in a grilled-by-request flour tortilla, this neat-to-eat lunch featured all the shop's hallmarks, from glurgy guacamole and standout refried beans to smoothly melted cheese, all collected in a graceful ingredient mix that allowed formidable spiciness to begin sinking its teeth in after no more than a few bites. Stooge-proof construction, a front-to-back run of hot bites, and incorrigible two-mustache intangibility sealed the deal. And we were out.
Shrug: meat (7)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
Well, that fried pork sure needed a good chopping! We sure never quite knew if we'd be getting one or three bites' worth. But it sure was flavorful; oh yes, it sure was. Of typical Gordo dimensions (short and fat) and built to last, we sure enjoyed everything about — What's with wedging 'sure' into every damn sentence here? Knock it off — now! - Ed. Fair enough. We...enjoyed nearly everything about this burrito, but certain elements went above and beyond. One element that went above and beyond was temperature. Another element that went above and beyond was burstage abatement. Another element that went above and beyond was — Criminy! What the hell is this? First-grade day in the Burritoeater newsroom?! Start writing like a professional — now! - Ed. I'm just as god made me. Anyway. Um. We really liked all the melted cheese along the inner tortilla, as well as the refried beans, and the spiciness (which we're pretty sure came from all the salsa verde the nice man behind the Gordo counter added at our request; he also grilled the tortilla for us!). That's it! You're fired. Take your pedestrian slabular observations over to Yelp, you lunkheaded stooge. - Ed. Can I finish? Please? OK. This burrito's "crafty" ingredient mix sprinkled the rice all around, and we thought that was "rad." And intangibility here was sure "off the hook." Oh yes, it sure was.
Shrug: no elements elicited shrugs
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
Our favorite Gordo shop in town has been putting up major numbers for the last five years...but nothing like this. One of the most formidable burritos we've ever enjoyed, this mighty weighty slab was a holding tank of high-scoring elements, from impossibly rad refried beans and perfectly complementary spiciness on through a spectacularly smooth ingredient mix; its temperature and burstage abatement ratings also couldn't go any higher. The sharp pico de gallo and ace guacamole held the fort with flavorful grace, and the all-melted cheese won big from here to Laramie. Even if the moderately grilled tortilla didn't rank in the all-time pantheon, it got the job done without leaving our panel appalled by steamed stickiness. Gordo's grilled chicken was equally workmanlike in its modest success, while one element of this mythic burrito never in doubt was its infallible intangibility. Oh! Yes.
Shrug: sauciness (7); ingredient mix (7); cheese (6)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
You know it’s an off-day at Gordito when only one element of the burrito ratchets up ten mustaches. Our Gordo-shaped dunch — it’s short, it’s fat, it’s gordo — was softer than the Carpenters and floppier than a sturgeon on a dock, although it was the overly incendiary spice with which this slab was “augmented” that caught our panel’s earliest attention more than anything. (Dude, we said we wanted an extra spicy burrito, not a trip to California Pacific’s burn unit.) Because of this flavor-masking gaffe, we had no choice but to make the extra-rare decision to downgrade the spiciness rating. “Flavor-masking”? Oh yes: When the beef is this nicely prepared, and yet its charms are ravaged by raging flames of pepper-fire, something’s definitely amiss. Other than the perfect run of hot bites and super-rad refried beans, no other elements came up huge here — not the ineffectual (if melted) cheese, not the increasing drippiness, not even the politely grilled tortilla that suffered a sodden hind end due to all that damned increasing drippiness. But even with all this relative disappointment, the unshakable intangibility of a Gordo burrito still smashed through all the letdowns to crest our eight-mustache hill. But when was the last time the Golden Gate Bridge had an off-day? How about the Beach Blanket Babylon woman with all the big hats? Hmm? We expect the best from our civic icons.
Shrug: size (7); vegetables (6)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
Another Gordo rip-roarer, albeit one that took several bites to hit its groove; but once it did...you know the rest. The fast-and-loose wrapjob on this too-short slab created a hell of a lot of dodgy floppiness from the get-go, but our panel’s ten-mustache containment acumen kept things together — literally! Our panel literally kept things together! Pico de gallo was strangely absent, but Gordo’s marvelously thick, onion-dabbed guacamole compensated the best it could to the ragged tune of six mustaches. Chunks of pork were bathed in rich, incomparable chile verde, and we appreciated the perfect run of hot bites and furiously complementary spiciness. Ace refried beans and plump, wonderfully bloated rice grains were nine-mustache supporting players; too bad, then, that the grilled, flaky tortilla didn’t earn a grilled, flaky rating. The all-inclusive mix brought everything together fairly seamlessly, and given how great everything tasted here, the matter of our intangibility bonus was never called in question — two extra mustaches, done. Never mind how our barely foiled lunch turned into funny, trapezoidal shapes at the very end.
Shrug: vegetables (7); sauciness (7)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
Gordo’s ability to garner spectacular results in patently unspectacular fashion has become so natural, our panel tends to sometimes get caught here mid burrito wondering if this is finally the burrito that will end the tiny taqueria’s infallible run. Then, after all the foil’s balled up and discarded in the recycling bin, the flurry of eight- and nine-mustache element ratings come crashing in, and before we know it, we’ve been fooled again by San Francisco’s most subtly great burrito shop. We don’t make a habit of starting our reviews off with glowing descriptions of rice, and we’ll try not to get too flowery about Gordo’s Spanish variety, but...damn it was mighty tasty and perfectly seasoned here. The tortilla was a bit too quietly grilled to register anything on the toppermost reaches of our mustachometer, and as much as the thoroughly uncrispy carnitas tried to underachieve its way into seven-mustache territory, it simply tasted too good to get demerited like that. Multiple slices of completely melted cheese lined much of the tortilla interior, and the refried beans weren’t so far behind the glorious rice on the ladder of success. Ingredient mix? Awfully seamless. Veggie involvement? You know, some tomato-heavy pico de gallo and thick guacamole...it got the job done. Spice? We accounted for it, sure. Intangibility? Heavy on the intangibility, although of course we didn’t realize it until we got to the end. Gordo: our favorite silent assassin.
Shrug: size (7)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
You may ask yourself: Self, how does a length-challenged burrito lacking truly outstanding meat, rice, and beans still achieve all-time greatness? The answer, of course, requires about 150 words and lies at the exact pinpoint on the San Francisco taqueria map where truth meets legend.
First, mitigate slabular shortness with heavy-duty girth, but not to the point where the burrito becomes an unwieldy, near-round monstrosity, like all that foiled silliness Chipotle foists on its customers. Then acquiesce to the customer’s request for a grilled tortilla, and do it extra-right by melting multiple slices of cheese upon it as it grills. Proceed to create a harmonious ensemble of veggies, and maybe let the guacamole take the lead for a change. Then pelt the tortilla with nicely charred/seasoned chicken, sure-handed Spanish rice, and steady-truckin’ refried beans, none of which should get all uppity and want to dominate everything in its midst. Kindly spice the whole affair up to the nines with liberal amounts of burly salsa verde, and make the meal whistle and sing with a rad ingredient mix. Do all this, and the intangibility and mustaches will take care of themselves. Like here at Gordito.
Shrug: no elements elicited shrugs
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
Eight, nine, eight, eight, eight, nine, nine, eight, nine, nine, nine, nine. That’s how the scoresheet looked after our panel polished off this unspectacularly spectacular burrito, which clearly wanted no part of neither perfection nor mediocrity. A bit squatty, but sporting a heft worthy of 16 bites, the burly slab displayed an elegantly crafted ingredient mix that never leaned too heavily on any particular element – classic ensemble burritowork. Fiery spice kicked into gear about a third of the way in, while the entire blimp was brilliantly splattered with salsa verde and a smart selection of pasty refried beans. Juicy beef punctuated several bites with subtle flavor, as did melted slices of jack cheese and a host of veggie additives – diced onion and tomato, chopped cilantro, semi-thick guacamole, uh-huh, that’s right. The grilled (on request) tortilla was on-point, the puffy-grained Spanish rice got it done right, and intangible credibility was never in doubt.
Shrug: no elements elicited shrugs
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
First things first: A Gordo slab looks the part. It’s short, it’s chubby, it’s gordo. Few other taquerias can make such an outrageous claim that its burritos are eponymous in general appearance, but of course, few taquerias in San Francisco are in Gordo’s league at this point. On the rare occasions we enjoy a burrito this unassailable, we’re not eating in disbelief; rather, while we’re biting, chewing, and mulling the greatness, we keep returning to one simple thought: This is how it’s pretty much supposed to be at the taqueria. Hot bites. Fortifications of melted jack along a hella grilled (always on request at Gordo) tortilla. Instant spice-kick, from bite one all down the line. An ace veggie ensemble (although this one could have used a greater hint of guacamole). Supremely sauced pork that makes no enemies. Again with the hot bites. Moist and fluffy grains of Spanish rice. Delicious refried beans that know their role and don’t try to pop out from behind the curtain every time you look at the back of the stage. That certain yo no se que we call "intangibility." And an ingredient mix that pulls it all together to win over even the most critical consumer (ahem) right away. 17 bites of real good times in the Richmond fog.
Shrug: sauciness (7); meat (6); burstage abatement (6)
Clang: no elements clanged
Intangibility bonus: 2 (of 2)
Short, flattish, full of girth, and mighty delicious. The swishes far outnumbered the shrugs on this afternoon trip to San Francisco’s lowest-profile Gordo, when four perfect element ratings sent this slab’s OMR skyward. A whole bunch of hot hot heat – spice and temperature – kept the cool-bite scourge at bay throughout, while a grilled-to-bejeezus tortilla (upon our request) and a couldn’t-be-better vegetable ensemble also weighed in at a full ten mustaches. Nice rice and melted cheese as well, and we would never overlook such an admirably well-integrated ingredient mix. How rad was that guacamole? It was so rad. Problems included a set of carnitas that floated in and out of mushiness, and a construction scheme that seemed to value flat aerodynamics over cylindrical ease of maneuverability. But most tellingly, perhaps, was when one of the more difficult members of our judges panel was heard mumbling at one point, face-deep into this burrito, “Them’s some refrieds.” Well, there you have it. This burrito tasted terrific.