The Crunchwrap Supreme's main advertising angle seems to be its portability. This is probably its best feature, unless you are a Taco Bell development executive and can sell it to the board based on not needing any new ingredients - it requires only teaching the employees the basic concept of origami.

The Crunchwrap Supreme (as always, Supreme in Taco Bell language means "sour cream") is basically a tostada with a tortilla wrapped around it. The ads present it as hermetically sealed, but mine was flawed, making it something less than conveniently portable.

Other than portability, wrapping a tortilla heavily around it serves one purpose, and that is illustrate the concept that if the first bite of any given Taco Bell burrito - a dry mouthful of warm crumpled tortilla - is so great, why not make a food item containing sixteen of them?

Rating: D

Topics: fast food, taco bell

If I stand in line for a Grilled Stuft Burrito, I am indeed a jerk! This bland entry, even with chicken included, is as disappointing as my date with Elsa Benitez. The burrito in its paper wrap seemed curiously solid, and in fact opening the wrapper revealed a burrito as inflexible as any directly removed from the freezer at the supermarket. The burrito does indeed appear to have been grilled, as evidenced by more-than-golden-brown bars on the sides of the rectangular-prism, as if it had been placed on the grill, and had had the complete works of Poe placed on it to ensure a nice flat shape and dark grill marks.

Lest one worry that the grill marks are only a visual gimmick, rest assured that they are indeed legitimate, and have a fairly unappealing scorched-tortilla taste which reminds one why one does not normally feel the need to char a burrito to a dark brown. The taste overpowers the entire burrito, and only a decent drenching in hot sauce (three packets for a single burrito is about average) can even begin to redeem the Grild Stuft Burrito.

Rating: D (Darker than it should be)

Topics: fast food, taco bell

Growing up in the Midwest gives you a pretty skewed idea of Mexican food. Take, for instance, the burritos that were routinely made in my household.

Step 1 (Preparation) - Heat up refried beans in the microwave. Shred cheese. Dice onions.

Step 2 (Cooking) - Put butter in hot pan. Put tortilla in pan. Put everything else in tortilla. Get it nice and crispy.

Sort of like an omlet, but usually a little more burnt.

I considered this to be a proper burrito well into my time living in Southern California, until I shared this technique with people, all of whom were disgusted. "Burritos," they said, "do not get grilled. You steam the tortilla, stuff, and eat."

And, like a good little lamb, I complied, and, truth be told, I generally prefer my burritos this way now, and just assumed that my mother had a bizarre concept of burrito-making.

But now...

Now I have justification! No less an authority on Mexican food than TACO BELL has confirmed this method of Burrito-Making. "It's [their] best burrito yet!" the ads scream. Ha! See! Grilling it "seals in the flavor!" Why did you not listen to me? You could have been ahead of the game if only you had listened to me! Now you have to stand in line like a jerk to get a Grilled Burrito! You could have befriended me years ago and eaten your fill of them! But no. You laughed at me. Don't think I haven't forgotten.

Bwahahahahahaa.

Revenge is sweet. Especially with a side of Cinnamon Twists.

Rating: B (Gains points for vindication. Loses points for poor spelling.)

Topics: fast food, taco bell

These nachos are reviewed due to deceptive advertising which claims that the nachos cost slightly less than half of one dollar. This is true only if one purchases a ridiculously priced beverage. The nachos, $1.19, look terrible, and a chemical analysis finds no cheese at all with the unevenly distributed ground beef, flattened fried beans, and bright orange flavor sauce, with a smear of fat white sour cream. There were also upwards of three tomato pieces and four scallion bits. A customer can separately request sauce packets in "Mild," "Hot," or "Fire." For the purposes of this review, "Hot" will be assumed. Sadly, the nachos taste pretty decent. They don't compare favorably to the solid Del Taco nachos or the sublime Green Burrito platter, but I had hoped to dish out a worse review.

Rating: B- (Packaged in cardboard)

Topics: fast food, taco bell

What can be said say about the Cheesy Gordita Crunch that hasn't been said many times before? A strange child of the decent, very filling Double-Decker Taco and the Baja Gordita with an extra layer of cheese to provide a little taste and prevent any slipping. The name presents an immediate problem: there is very little crunch, as a decent application of sauce and heat robs the taco shell cushioned in the gordita of any actual crispness. The slight resistance provided by the softening shell, though, helps to cut the mushy feeling of the regular gordita entree and lend a little more substance to the experience. The layer of cheese - again, unlike the regular gordita - is melted by the heat, making it noticeably more appealing than the dry unmelted shavings on the regular dish and bringing out the flavor.

The Cheesy Gordita Crunch relies, otherwise, on the same staples as the simpler version: ground beef, lettuce, a couple of scallion bits, and the special sauce which, whatever its actual recipe, might be a child of sour cream and orange ground beef grease. It's a more enjoyable item than the straight Gordita, and fifty extra cents is a reasonable payoff, but one must question whether the sizeable increase in fat and calories is a concern.

Rating: C (Cheesy-G)

Topics: fast food, taco bell