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Welcome to Haute-N-Ready, in which John Locanthi, Willamette Weekâs trencherman of leisure, tastes the hastily made, modestly priced food of the common man.
A by-the-bite breakdown of the Taco Bell quesarito
Over the years, Iâve had the odd gordita, grilled stuft burrito or enchurrito (may it rest in peace), but Iâd yet to taste the quesarito or even the aforementioned Doritos Locos tacos. The Quesarito Big Boxâa quesarito, a nacho cheesier Doritos Locos taco and a regular hard tacoâensures that this ends today.
As for the quesarito itself. Smaller than I predicted, the first few bites were relatively pleasant. (I ordered it sans sour cream and utilized the potent fire sauce to combat the bespeckled, off-color cheese goo described as a chipotle sauce in the literature.) At first, it seemed like a subpar grilled stuft burrito surrounded by the thinnest quesadilla known to man. If only I could have been so lucky. To those of you who are ever weary of dishes that refuse to specify which cheese are contained, know that there is a very good reason: You wouldnât order it if you knew. There is not enough hot sauce or soda in the world to deal with this thick plastic, cheese-like substance. 650 calories never tasted so foul.
Iâve not tried Chipotleâs quesarito as of yet, but I doubt Taco Bellâs offering would fare well in a comparison. It couldnât even compete with the rest of the big box.
WWeek 2015