The burrito: It's the bastard child of Mexican and American cuisine, an entity that doesn't actually exist south of the border and suffers many an indignity in the supermarket freezers of El Norte. A good burrito comes wrapped in foil in a little plastic tray, with a side of chips and access to endless founts of avocado salsa. It should be eased down your throat by copious amounts of horchata and spicy pickled carrots as Vicente Fernandez cries on the jukebox in the background. Miraculously, El Farolito has the protocol down. There are TVs hanging from the ceiling, so you don't have to miss a moment of El Gordo y La Flaca. And forget about colored tortillas and tombo tuna chunks: tongue, brains, and intestines typify the menu, though there's also chicken and carnitas. A basic burro with beans, rice, and guacamole costs $3.25, and a Super Burrito (dairy and meat) is a dollar more. The Super Camarón (shrimp) burrito goes for $8. It's decadent, wrong, and delicious.
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