Fill out this form to email this article to a friend
Food
The burrito evolves
The simple burrito is rolling out in saucy new restaurant chains in your neighborhood. Forget the Bell.This trend traces its roots to the brothers Burrito, and beyond that to our neighbors to the southwest.
By SHANNON COLAVECCHIO-VAN SICKLER
Published March 29, 2006
 |
|
[Times illustration: Steve Madden]
|
|
Drive by the Chipotle Mexican Grill on West Shore Boulevard in Tampa around lunchtime, and the line of people hungry for 1-pound-plus burritos snakes out the front door. On Platt Street near downtown Tampa, a sign announces the coming of Tijuana Flats, the fast-food burrito chain whose official manifesto includes random tidbits of wisdom such as "embrace the strange and unexplained" and "hot is the new cool." In Carrollwood, former Outback executive Ryan McDonald is about to open the first franchise location of Burrito Bros. Taco Co., the quick-service burrito joint that has generated a cultlike following in its three decades near the University of Florida campus. The burrito, it seems, is hip. And it's everywhere - served up fast in eateries with trendy music and decor that draws college students and professionals alike. There's Moe's Southwest Grill and Tijuana Flats, with its colorful murals and equally colorfully named hot sauces. Even McDonald's is in the game with more than 450 Chipotle restaurants, which feature sleek aluminum walls and a promise for better quality ingredients; some of it even organic. They all make Taco Bell seem so, well, square. "Fast-food Mexican was uncommon when we first opened,'' said Randy Akerson, who has run Burrito Bros. with his wife, Janet, since 1977. "Now it's ubiquitous. We always did it this way, not knowing any different. Time has sort of caught up with us." Some trace the quick-serve Mexican phenomenon to Baja Fresh, which started in California in the early '90s. The burrito itself, though, is the pride of Sonora, Mexico, where they are served by street vendors in substantially smaller and simpler form than those dished up by their Mexican-American counterparts. The giant, stuffed burrito, as we know it now, was born in the border belt between Tucson, Ariz., and Los Angeles. The Mexican-Americans of San Francisco's Mission District made it famous. But any true Gator will tell you that the burrito craze - in the Sunshine State, at least - has its roots in Burrito Bros. McDonald, a UF alumnus who ate Burrito Bros. food three times a week, sees it as the pioneer of the open kitchen that offers made-to-order burritos at cheap prices. The formula has become standard at places like Chipotle, where diners move along the line deciding what meat they want, whether to include rice and beans, and which salsa they want to jump up and smack them. A burrito or taco consists of a few simple ingredients that could easily be assembled at home. But these restaurants lure diners with specialty sauces, seasoned meats and menu items with names that get people talking. Moe's Southwest Grill calls a taco with beans, meat, salsa, cheese and lettuce the Joey Bag of Donuts. Add sour cream and guacamole, and it's The Other Lewinsky. Randy Akerson also attributes the fast-serve Mexican trend to the fact that people now are "much more aware of what they eat." Unlike at a fast-food burger joint, Burrito Bros. lets people see and control the amount of what they're getting. The Akersons have been stressing fresh ingredients for nearly 30 years, and their menu is pretty much what it was in 1977. But from their hole in the wall near campus, they have seen the evolution of the burrito's popularity. Customers used to be mostly students, mostly male. Plenty of them were high on something more than nicotine and looking for a way to satisfy the munchies. Today, fraternity brothers and athletes still wait in line for their Primo Burritos. But right behind them are sorority sisters, government workers, panhandlers and professors. Even UF president Bernie Machen has discovered the magic of the red sauce and homemade guacamole. "We certainly have more female customers than we had, say, 15 years ago," said Janet Akerson, 50, who attended Boca Ciega High in St. Petersburg. "The percentage of people who come in stoned out of their bejesus is less than it was in the '70s and '80s," adds Randy Akerson, 54. Now, he says, the appeal of the burrito is way beyond that. Shannon Colavecchio-Van Sickler can be reached at 813 226-3373 or svansickler@sptimes.com.
[Last modified March 28, 2006, 12:09:28]
Share your thoughts on this story
|