My choice to try this new burrito place wasn’t inspired by the massive sign in a font worthy of a Wild West theme park that mars its otherwise not-that-tacky red brick exterior, nor the subtle hint said sign gives about the type of cuisine it boasts, but its ultra convenient location on Gloucester Green. This prize postcode provides competition both for the student-on-a-budget market and the label of “Most Inauthentic Exotic Cuisine” (I’m looking at you, Noodle Nation).
When I entered with an unwilling friend in tow the place was worryingly empty, but I generously attributed this to its infancy. Having only opened in 7th week of last term, it can’t be expected to have yet won the trust of Oxford’s student population, or to have developed regulars. Further, much of their menu makes for great street food, which can be ready in a jiffy and eaten with your hands out of cardboard packaging (props for the eco-consciousness). As we arrived, a woman in a suit with a pencil in her hair was rushing out with some nachos, inspiring my friend to order them.
Personally, I wanted something a little more filling, and so was disappointed by my surprisingly small vegetarian burrito – although listed as an option on the board behind the counter, this appeared to be just a standard meat burrito without the meat, but with no extra vegetables or alternative filling. Prior to ordering I’d been quite impressed with the competitive prices, but I quickly regretted not getting a large instead of small, which would hopefully have been the size of a small elsewhere. Though the quality of the tortilla was unimpressive and there was no whole-wheat option, and the onions were a tad overdone, the spicy rice was a delightful touch, which did actually manage to compel me to finish it. When I asked my friend how his food was, he shrugged. “It’s nachos.”
What interested me more than the mains was the drinks list, also shockingly cheap for Southeast England. When I went to get a round, I was informed that drinks could only be purchased with food, so chose churros for dessert.
The server was entirely perplexed when I asked for a mojito, telling me he’d never heard of it or had it ordered, and having to ask his boss (who, sat at a table by the window, I had mistaken for the only other customer in the room). Said boss eventually produced from the back room a perplexingly lukewarm icy slushy the colour of the Scooby Gang’s Mystery Machine, which tasted surprisingly good despite the probable quality of any spirit kept in the back room. The churros, while enjoyably saccharine, would probably make my Andalucian grandmother roll in her grave, especially because of the hot chocolate served with it, which would only be fit for the most depressing of small-town mid-England train stations.
Though I wouldn’t recommend this American chain restaurant to anyone looking for anything resembling authentic Mexican grub, its tacky décor and fantastically unhealthy food is an excellent guilty pleasure that’s easy on your student loan.
