For a Catholic country like Mexico to produce such a sinful food as the burrito is simply beyond me – two deadly sins, lust and gluttony, combined in a wonderful wrap of joy and pleasure. Certainly enough, the attempt to recreate it at an industrial level has not helped the cause, but it’s still a great lunch option if you don’t fear flatulence (it’s the beans).
Let’s get this straight – Chilango is not so much gourmet as it is a lunch-on-a-conveyor-belt robot, and expectations really need to be accordingly. This has nothing to do with the speed at which your burrito is created; some of the best places I’ve eaten at had them done faster than you’d blink.
Two of the heavenly virtues in Christianity, diligence and patience, while not contrary to lust and gluttony, are the embodiment of the perfect burrito. It the care you put into creating the individual ingredients that matters. Chilango was an average burrito (which is still damn great) – the pork belly was rather dry, the wrap ended up dripping with some sauce everywhere. It does have more diversity of meat than other such chains.
Grade: Sainthood (mostly because I love burritos)