/ck/ - Food & Cooking

OK, I finally broke down and went to Chipotle a few nights ago.

First, here’s why it was my first visit: I swore I’d never give that place a penny after watching the owner/founder on a reality show a few years ago. He rubbed me the wrong way — that’s polite — and I swore I’d never contribute to his wealth. (Confession: I owned and operated a small restaurant at the time and part of my dislike was jealousy).

But my daughter was taken there by a babysitter and she likes it. But I still refused to go. But last Friday it was getting late and I figured I could endure one visit.

My burrito was good. It was NOT so good that I care whether I ever get another one. And $8 seemed steep. I won’t suggest it for dinner again.

Why not return? Because it was horribly uncomfortable. The industrial, dark feeling of the place was the first thing I noticed. I waited in line. I saw the very limited, almost terse menu. I watched customers in front of me choose and step right, choose and step right, like cattle … or prisoners. I felt nervous. I was scared I’d do something wrong. I was afraid I’d be yelled at. I had entered the Soup Nazi’s domain.

The girl behind the counter wasn’t Soup Nazi surly but the way the place is set up, I felt terrible pressure to order fast and get out of the way. Very assembly line-like. The girl asked three times what rice I wanted but I didn’t understand her because she was speaking so rapid-fire and building my burrito like a machine. Oh my God, she’s going to yell at me in front of all these people if I answer wrong, I thought each time I said “Excuse me?”

I know people love the place. I just don’t know why. It’s a burrito. Just a burrito.