Tacos Chavez Express 2

By Matthew Korfhage

5222 SE Foster Road, 926-1506, facebook.com/tacoscex2. Lunch and dinner daily.

There's only a single California-style burrito available anywhere between 82nd Avenue and the West Hills that I ever wake up thinking about—and only one that would ever motivate me to get in a car. It is the $7 french fry-stuffed carb monster at Foster Road hole-in-the-wall Tacos Chavez, a pocket of crisped housemade flour tortilla folded around a mess of starchy fries, a char-flecked half-pound of delicious carne asada, bright guac, magmal flows of cheese and a lightly piquant pico de gallo. Neither the porn store next door to the takeout-counter taqueria, nor the jack shack across the street, could concoct anything as extreme as Chavez's own version of XXX, which is the label on the taco shop's near-virginally pure chile de arbol salsa, which could easily sear a hole through your sinuses if misapplied. This burrito is what other burritos would ogle, if burritos made pornography.

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