I’m thinking about you.
I’m thinking about you, Trader Joe’s Mildly Spiced Vegetable Burrito, even though I finished eating you half an hour ago. The carnage of your cardboard tray remains at my desk, your dried-on, mole-inspired guts stuck to my red plastic spork and the comically ineffective knife I borrowed from the office kitchen.
You are delicious every time, but after half a decade of exploring you inside and out, there’s so much I still don’t understand.
You’ve disappeared a few times. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take it personally. But like my high school sweetheart, you always turned back up as though nothing happened. I hope, for your sake, nothing happened.
Frozen in pairs, you make it difficult to eat just one. To do that, I have to remove your solitary roll from the package, place you on a plate, and try to extrapolate the correct cooking time in the microwave at hand (the directions are for two burritos and stipulate that one leave them in the tray, both reducing the amount of dishes needing to be washed and, I suspect, improving cooking results). I fail most times, creating either a Trader Joe’s Mildly Spiced Vegetable Burrisplosion ™ or a meal with its skin intact but its center just thawed enough to make me not bother microwaving it some more.
Why is your tortilla so flimsy, Trader Joe’s Mildly Spiced Vegetable Burrito? Why do you contain no rice to act as a life preserver while you drown in your incredible sauce? And why are you
not in the “Trader Jose’s” line, like so many of your other delightful “Mexican food” friends when you are but an American interpretation of Mexican cuisine? I guess I don’t have all the answers.
Your vegetable choice? Excellent — I love anyone who can rock a broccoli. Your spice blend? Perfect, smoky, faintly tickling my nose’s mucus production. Your ability to be eaten as a burrito should be (with two hands) without tearing through the sides and/or bottom rather than with a knife and fork like some common diner with “manners”? Not that good. You could also use some guacamole.
I think you are delicious, Trader Joe’s Mildly Spiced Vegetable Burrito. I really do. But I have to admit that you are a sad burrito. I’m sorry you are sad, Trader Joe’s Mildly Spiced Vegetable Burrito. I am sad, too.