Burrito King

Every now and then, you've got to stretch yourself and try something new.

Oh, you don't have to be a wild and crazy risk taker like I am -- after all I live outside the box -- and have been compared to Keanu Reeves for my relentless pursuit of excellent adventures.

My brother just had knee surgery, so we've cancelled our evening track practices for a while. But we still enjoy getting together to catch up on the madcap events of daily life, and to converse about that utopian day when we can finally rid ourselves and our doctors of tedious medical decisions, and get them into the hands of politicians where they belong. And as statistics have proven over and over, sibling conversations are most productive and intellectually stimulating when carried out over a tray of tacos and a diet Coke. Ergo, our post-track refueling and philosophizing sessions are typically done at the local Taco Bell.

But as I said, guys like us have been known to go nuts on occasion. (Well, not "Allah Akbar" nuts, but still well outside the boundaries of conventional behaviors.) We decided to eschew the Bell and try the cuisine at the Burrito King next door.

I know you won't believe this, but I didn't even do any research before deciding to take this risk. Most people would do a Google search, look at restaurant ratings, and maybe even ask their lawyer for advice before branching out to try a new and untested taco joint, but not us. We walked right in the door of the Burrito King and made our decisions with no information other than what was printed on the menu.

The first difference noted was that the fellow at the counter was friendly and customer-service oriented. He greeted us cheerfully, and showed great enthusiasm for the honor of serving us. I really like that. (My son would argue that the food is the same whether the clerk smiles at you or not, so it's silly to care how sullen and emo the server is, but I disagree.)

I ordered the "Big Plate", which had one of everything, plus rice and beans. Pat had a slightly fancier dish -- some sort of signature burrito. The food arrived quickly, and was presented with a flourish. "Doesn't that look good?" the dude asked, and I had to admit that it did encourage salivation. We tore into our meals with gusto.

Mine wasn't bad. It wasn't quite up to Taco Bell quality, but it wasn't bad. I quickly noticed, though, that Pat wasn't having quite the same luck I was. He was eating slowly and drinking a LOT of soda. His forehead was beaded with sweat. His eyes were a bit glazed. Some sort of post-surgery medical condition, I wondered?

"Man, this is hot!" he said. He dabbed his napkin across his damp face. "Really hot."

Now, I happen to know that my brother can handle spicy food. He likes it on the fiery side. So when he has to pause between bites to pant and gasp, you know that the Scoville count is pretty darned high.

To make a long story short, after 20 minutes and multiple drink refills, he finally gave up. "I'm full," he said, though we both knew that he had room left to finish the plate. But his tongue was fried; he could barely talk. His clothing was soaked in sweat, and he mentioned that he thought he saw the Virgin Mary outside in the drive-thru. It was definitely time to quit.

The final verdict? Well, if you like to boil your hemoglobin, and you appreciate friendly treatment from your quick-service restaurant, you might want to give Burrito King a try. But we've decided that our next meeting will be back at the Bell. It's much cheaper, and so far we haven't had any meltdowns associated with their tacos...even the "Volcano" variety. But don't think we'll always be content with the status quo or will stop trying to taste the wild life -- one of these days you might even see us at Arby's.

Have a great day!