It's a story as old as America: a weary, battered immigrant journeys to New York, in a strange new land finds solace in cooking the humble nourishment that sustained life in his distant, anonymous village. Which in this case would be burritos from San Francisco, at Dos Toros.
From two Bay Area brothers who trekked to NYC only to find a complete lack of true West Coast food missiles, DT's serving just that from behind a takeaway counter in a reclaimed wood and exposed brick sleeve, flush with black steel cladding and rustic woven leather stools; the casual vibe's augmented by an instrumental funk playlist hand picked by the brothers, one of whom toured as a bassist for Third Eye Blind, but apparently hasn't considered how it's gonna be when you don't love beans anymore. Believing the superiority of WC burritos owes to the attention given each component component, everything but the cheese, crema, and tortillas're made in-house, having undergone hundreds of batch testings to ensure quality; rice, pinto/black beans, cheese, salsa, and sour cream're carefully layered for structural integrity, and wrapped in their favorite hand-stretched, super-thin-yet-resilient flour tortilla, painstakingly sourced from ATL, then steamed, resulting in a delightfully chewy texture, and even more delightful steaming burrito jokes. As for meat fillings, options are three: char grilled chicken or carne asada touched with a special dry rub of paprika, black/white pepper, kosher salt, and a few secrets, and crispy, tender carnitas seared on both ends of a roast that lasts four hours, which actually seems short once you've seen the roast of Chevy Chase.
Proteins can also be done up in crispy or soft shell tacos, quesadillas, or wrap-less burrito platters, and a precise, inexpensive suds list rounds things out with a selection of artisanal beers so anonymous and arcane, they could only be Tecate, Pacifico, and Corona.
