I am a burrito junkie. I used to make last call pilgrimages with my crew to the Original Chubby’s in Denver for some desayuno especial or a smothered beef and bean. Before the neighborhood gentrified, Chubby’s was not a good place for a lanky white guy with a shaved head and goatee to be at two in the morning. Chubby’s, you see, is a run-down burrito shack. Upon ordering you either took your meal home or you ate it off the hood of your car and watched the police arrest the perpetrators of a gang fight in the nearby 7-Eleven parking lot or bought a pack of Newports for a dollar from a guy that shoplifted them from the nearby 7-Eleven or ignored the pleas of female drinking companions from the back seat urging me to take them home. I was thrilled when Chipotles started popping up all over the Denver metro area. The burritos are big, tasty and inexpensive. But something was missing from these burritos. Something I could not put my finger on it until I started frequenting Illegal Pete’s. At the end of burrito-making process at Pete’s, they take a spoon and mix the ingredients of your burrito before wrapping it. This ensures an even distribution of flavor with every mouthful as opposed to a bite of just rice/sour cream/chicken/cheese. Illegal Pete’s is a fifteen minute walk from my office (ten if I take the mall shuttle) and I stroll by three Chipotles (including one directly across the street) just to get there. Shall I cross the Rubicon at Chipotle and ask them to start mixing my ingredients with a spoon upon wrapping my burrito? I should probably learn how to say, “Please mix it with a spoon” in Spanish just to cover all my bases.