You Guys in San Francisco Are Lucky

I am having the rudest hankering for an overpriced Financial District burritos from Tlaloc. These are completely different from the totally delicious burittos at Cancun or El Super Burrito or El Farolito.

Jesus.

Going there was my Friday afternoon ritual when I worked around the corner and was a respite from a sometimes dastardly hangover clouding a very predictably boring job. They have this lovely mango salsa that I could easily eat a gallon of and grilled chicken that would mingle so nicely with beans and rice lavished with this simple but ingenious onion/epazote/cilantro sauciness.

I feel weak.

Go there. For me.