Today, I rediscovered the true meaning of burrito. It was after marching in the sun all morning for Carnivale. I was exhausted, dehydrated, hungry. Someone picked up burritos for the group. They were from Castillito, a place I've eaten on many an occassion. I picked a regular veggie from the bag. True to Castillito form, it was nothing special. But damn, it was so good to be eating a burrito after having worked my ass off outside. And really, that's the point of burrito – not some delicacy for hipster elitists to endlessly blog and kvetch over – but the perfect wrap-it-in-tinfoil-and-take-it-to-work-with-you food. The easiest, cheapest, most satisfying sort of working man's meal. And it doesn't have to be a good burrito to do that. With burritos, it's so much less about what is being eaten than who is eating it.