I was born and raised in San Francisco, but moved to the East Coast in 2017. I only visit my hometown a few times a year, but the moment my plane touches down, I head straight to La Taqueria in the Mission District for a burrito. Anyone who has kindly volunteered to pick me up from the airport immediately regrets it: For 20 minutes, they have to endure my hunger-fueled ramblings as I rave about how much I’ve missed the comically large Mission-style burrito on the way to the restaurant.
In northern Mexico, burritos take the form of small flour tortillas filled with beans, cheese, and beef or pork, and make for a simple, portable meal. But Mission-style burritos belong in their own category. With hearty, gooey fillings, such as pull-apart carnitas and Monterey Jack cheese, bursting from a warm tortilla, the rightfully famous Mission-style burrito is, without question, my hometown pride. They set the precedent for the overstuffed, foil-wrapped versions of burritos in America today, influencing chains such as Chipotle and Qdoba.
Of all the burritos in the Mission District, a neighborhood renowned for its Mexican and Latin shops, colorful murals, and historic buildings, my favorite comes from La Taqueria, an old-school establishment tucked beneath a Spanish-style arched doorway with white stucco walls and San Francisco memorabilia. The restaurant has been around since 1973, and has garnered a devoted following: There are always regulars quietly digging into their orders served on red plastic baskets, and there is almost always a line of hungry diners snaking out from the restaurant.
La Taqueria’s burrito might be my quintessential Mission burrito, but even their classic version diverges from the rest. Most Mission-style burritos include rice for heft and carbs, but I prefer theirs, which skips the rice entirely. The result is a juicy, rich, and slightly messy burrito that lets the meat, beans, and toppings shine. I always order it “El Dorado-style,” which means the rolled burrito is crisped on a ripping hot griddle until its exterior is golden and lightly crunchy. (This is technically an off-menu order, but something most regulars know about.) Today, this burrito from La Taqueria is so legendary that San Francisco locals, tourists, and food writers speak of it in near-reverential tones.
“Like many Mission Street burritos, it’s prepared assembly line-style; the sour cream is added liberally from a squirt bottle, guacamole comes by the spoonful from an enormous metal bowl, pico de gallo and all its juices are added at the end,” the reporter Anna Maria Barry-Jester wrote of La Taqueria in a story about America’s best burritos for FiveThirtyEight. “But unlike at other taquerias, each ingredient keeps its juices, making this burrito saucy in form and personality.”
Serious Eats / Lori Eanes
Over the years, I’ve spent countless hours lounging in Mission Dolores Park with friends, family members, and coworkers with a foil-wrapped burrito in hand. This burrito has been a constant through the ups and downs of my life. One summer in college, I briefly became a vegetarian to impress a guy, and swapped my usual order of lard-simmered pork for whole beans and chunky salsa. The relationship didn’t last, and I was glad when I could finally go back to my regular order.
During the pandemic, burritos became a way to stay connected with friends across town. I’d pick up an assortment of orders—carne asada (marinated and grilled beef), lengua (beef tongue), cabeza (roasted beef head), chorizo (pork sausage), and pollo (chicken)—and we’d gather, each spaced six feet apart, to compare the fillings. All proteins had something to offer: The lengua struck a brilliant balance between bouncy and chewy, the chorizo was perfectly spiced, and the carne asada—an overall fan favorite—had my friends wishing they had ordered more.
Since then, I’ve tried almost every filling and combination. These days, however, my order is set in stone. I ask for tender carnitas, black beans, pico de gallo, and tangy sour cream. As for guacamole, I’m especially partial to La Taqueria’s one-ingredient version, which is so extraordinarily creamy and delicious it needs no limes or salt.
I moved to New York three years ago, but I still haven’t found a burrito quite as good as La Taqueria’s. I miss the crispy tortilla and yearn for the unapologetic messiness and comfort of biting into a burrito on a foggy San Francisco afternoon. Determined to get my hands on a burrito, I set out to recreate my own at home.
So I searched online for a Mission-style burrito recipe, and found one from Serious Eats contributor Kiano Moju. At first, I was a bit skeptical—how could a recipe replicate such a specific, emblematic dish? But Moju’s recipe proved me wrong. Like me, Moju has spent considerable time thinking about this iconic burrito in all its permutations. She recreated her favorite version from El Balazo, a now-shuttered taqueria that once reminded her Kenyan family of home.
Her recipe stars all the Mission-style burrito essentials: carne asada that’s marinated and slightly charred, rich pinto beans, a variety of colorful toppings, such as pico de gallo and sour cream, and rice. The carne asada marinade alone—a mixture of orange and lime juice, garlic, cilantro, cumin, and smoky chipotle—expertly balances bright, tangy, and herby flavors. Moju also meticulously toasts her rice in oil with onion, garlic, tomato paste, and uses chicken stock to enhance the flavor of the grains. Substitutions are quite easy here, too. You can seamlessly swap carne asada for carnitas (as I do) or throw in any sturdy vegetables or proteins you choose. Her version isn’t quite my order at La Taqueria, but it’s the closest I’ve gotten to enjoying a Mission-style burrito in New York. And I’m more than thankful for it.
Now that I have a recipe close at hand, I may no longer have to fly 3,000 miles for my favorite burrito. Whenever I take that first bite, I’m right back in Dolores Park watching the fog settle over the city.
