We Put Everything on Chipotle's Menu Into One Glorious Burrito
Chipotle is a place where your choices are limited only by your imagination (provided your imagination doesn't stretch too far beyond Mexican food staples). I've been to Chipotle probably a million times in my life, and, because I'm a big dreamer, I've always wondered what would happen if I asked them to put everything in one burrito. That means every protein (including tofu!), every salsa, every guac... actually, it's just the one guac. But everything else! This is what happens when you dream big, and ask your favorite Mexican fast-casual chain to put everything into one burrito.
How to order a burrito with everything in it
I walk into Chipotle, all smiles. I know the employees will have to work with me if we're going to make a burrito with everything in it.
"What would you like?" the friendly woman behind the counter asks.
"A burrito!" I reply, cleverly disguising the fact that this will be the largest burrito anyone has ever ordered from her.
"OK, white or brown rice?"
"I'm going to go crazy. I'm super hungry. Both kinds of rice."
"No problem," she says, scooping both rices.
"Black or pinto beans?"
"I'm going to do both of those too."
She has heard this before too. Then it gets kind of weird.
"All the meats," I say, sounding like a less-masculine, Semitic Ron Swanson.
"A full serving of all of them?" she asks.
She barely blinks, and when that happens, I feel like a million people must've done this before me. I feel unoriginal and not all that interesting.
"Do people do this all the time?" I ask.
"Not at all," she replies, and then pauses. "I might have to double wrap this."
Umm, probably, I think. What do I know? It's not like I've ever rolled a Chipotle burrito before. OH WAIT I HAVE.
It's all on the canvas! Surely the burrito roller will not try to roll this.
We're gonna need a bigger boat/tortilla
Yeahhhhh, that's not gonna work.
At this point, her coworkers see the trouble she's having, and tell her to get a second tortilla.
A woman walks in behind me. I immediately feel like the worst person in the world for holding her up, but she's smiling ear to ear and just staring at them trying to put this thing together.
Now the entire staff has gathered to watch this thing being made.
"Look at that burrito, dude," I hear one of them say. Or maybe I say it. It doesn't actually matter, because everyone is thinking that same thought, and wondering how the hell I was going to walk out with that thing.
A Navy SEAL burrito roller enters the scene
See how the shirt of the woman making the burrito has changed? That's because they brought in a woman from the back to help roll this thing. I like to think Chipotle keeps a Navy SEAL-type burrito roller in the back (I call her "The Closer," for short) for burrito emergencies and impossible missions that the regulars can't handle.
Someone in the front must've hit an alarm (that is shaped like a burrito), which flashed a light in the back. This woman in the striped shirt presumably stamped out a cigarette with her foot and walked in. Now she's handling the situation.
And how does she handle it? She adds a second tortilla, and then rolls everything into one huge, flour-based log that is basically as tall as me (I'm 5'7").
How much is this going to cost me, anyway?
As it's becoming clear she can roll this thing, I ask the cashier how much it'll run me.
"How about I charge you for a chicken burrito with all the meats and guac. Does that sound right?"
"That'll be $20.50," he says.
Now considering a regular burrito with guac usually runs me about $9 around here, a burrito the size of my head that could feed four people for $20 is an incredible deal.
"Is this a challenge you're doing, or something?" the cashier asks.
"I like trying new things!" I reply.
How's this thing taste?
First of all, it's not just about how it tastes. It's about the experience. It weighs about 5lbs. The cashier told me it was "definitely the biggest burrito I've ever sold," which I take as a huge compliment. Ordering it was fun. The employees thought it was hilarious. I had a great time. So the taste doesn't matter.
And I say that because, while it's a great value, it's not the tastiest burrito I've ever eaten from Chipotle. Was it good? Sure. But mostly I just tasted the hot salsa and whatever meat I happened to be biting into at the moment (remember, there were four of them -- steak, carnitas, chicken, barbacoa -- and tofu!).
I would recommend you get four of your friends, show up at a time when they're not packed with people, and order one. Tip well! Get some nachos, and then spend an hour plunging chips into this thing. It won't cost you more than a regular trip to Chipotle, and at least you'll have a story to tell in the end.