Seahawks (1-4) vs. Cooking (Mission Style Burritos)
This fall we are combining our love of the football and our dream of learning to cook by preparing a meal from the city of the Seahawks' opponent.
Growing up here, the only mission style burrito experience of our childhood was at the local Taco Del Mar, and we loved it. Then we went to college and met people from California who, in between not wanting to make out with us, would rave about the burritos in their hometowns.
We tried to talk up Taco Del Mar, but we were just glared at and told to move along. Dicks.
It wasn't until we visited Berkeley in late 2000 that we had out first California burrito. Our first bite felt like three gold covered angels were having sex in our mouth. Taco Del Mar was dead to us, and we were immediately converted to the Bay Area's burritos.
Seattle's influx of taco wagons has improved things dramatically, and even though we spent two years living in LA, surrounded by amazing Mexican food and Beck, there is nothing like a burrito from the Bay Area.
We're not sure why, as they all appear to be made the same way. It's possible that all the ingredients are rubbed on the faces of their glowing mayors, or maybe Renel broadcasts secret recipes during her radio show.
The only difference we've noticed is that some places add sliced cheese to the tortilla right before it's steamed so it's nice and melty.
They are also pretty big (see the picture after the jump)
From what we've read, this style of burrito is not very popular in real-Mexico, and were created in San Francisco's Mission District, an area not very popular in real-America.
Soon the Mission Style burrito spread throughout the rest of the Bay Area, from the hills of Oakland to the caricatures-of-themselves-burnouts of Santa Cruz, and everywhere in between, making them the perfect foods for discussing the social inequities of the world, in hopes that your liberal white guilt will fade.
Before constructing our own, we turned to our Bay Area expert Renee. She grew up in San Francisco and Berkeley, and after ten years in Olympia/Madison Valley returned to the Bay Area for a ten year sentence at San Quentin State Prison (in her defense, she never forced a single person into her van).
Renee also bought us our first burrito in the actual Mission District. However, the details of that day were overshadowed by her step-mom demanding our dripping wet pants (telling the story would only clarify things).
After pretending not to know who we were, she finally passed along sage advice.
Cheese: "Monterey jack cheese, thinly sliced."
Salsa: "If you can find canned salsa, that would be the best"
Beans: "Soak them overnight; use plenty of garlic and onions. Make sure to drain the water you soaked them in and cook them for three hours or longer."
When it came to tortillas, things took a very Palin-esque turn:
"Ones made with lard usually taste better, but put some people off. I would recommend buying a brand that is not 'American looking.'"
Once we slap the food inside our steaming tortillas we will have to fold them correctly, and then the final key step, to make them truly authentic, wrap them in tin foil. This way they can be enjoyed without a plate, and our guests won't have to worry about spilling any food.
As everyone knows, it's much better to take a nice big bite into tin foil than drop a small piece of food on the floor.
Phew, we made it through the entire post without making a single missionary style reference...we doubt that will happen when we see your mom later (YA BURNED).
We'll report back on Tuesday, and if you think you're so fucking great why not try and make the stuff as well. Then we can all compare notes as our fathers stare at us disapprovingly.
Above photo courtesy of Jasperdo, from our Flickr pool.
