El Cuervo

El Cuervo is a venerable institution. The same guys have been working here since I was a kid, the food is still excellent, and it continues to enjoy an enthusiastic following. Even the sweet old woman who cleared tables is still clearing tables.

The family that runs El Cuervo produces friendly, broad-backed progeny. They take your order quickly and with a smile from up high behind their counter. Behind them you see the magic happening in the galley-like kitchen. It’s very much a family business and it attracts families, generations of them. Look around you.

If you order a combination plate, you will be greeted with a mound of beans, rice, lettuce, pico de gallo, sour cream, and—poking out here and there—little clues as to what lies beneath—a bit of tortilla or some oozing adobo sauce. It’s a big pile of deliciousness.

But I’m Dr. Burrito, you say, not Dr. Plate. Right, right. Ah, so …

Well, the burritos are good. Really good. The last time I was there I had the carnitas, which were excellent. I love their chile relleno burrito. It’s one of the best in town, weighed down with refried beans and sour cream. Damn, I’m hungry again!

Remember: The key to any good burrito is quality ingredients. And so perhaps that’s why I went off in the plates direction right off the bat, because the plates showcase the individual ingredients. This place does everything right. This is San Diego Mexican-American cuisine defined and it’s damn good.

The salsa bar offers several salsas, pickles jalepenos and carrots, radishes, and sliced cucumbers. Don’t get greedy. A minor gripe: the salsas here have gotten increasingly sweet over the years. And the pico de gallo is spiced with pickled jalepenos and carrots, which I’m no fan of. But again, it’s pretty good and it’s free.

Oh, and they serve beer and wine, a couple of my favorite things.

Their chile verde is great. Whether it’s wrapped in a tortilla or served with steaming piles of rice and beans and corn tortillas—it’s still great. Variations on a theme, you see.

And sometimes you prefer the plate to the burrito. Sometimes, it’s the right call to keep all your ingredients cordoned off into their respective troughs of Styrofoam and pick from each like a great heron in the mudflats.

But the great advantage the burrito confers is the melding of flavors. And that’s why I am Dr. Burrito and not Dr. Plate. I believe the sum can be greater than the parts. When it is, it’s mesmerizing, intoxicating. You can get a burrito like this at El Cuervo and I hope you do, friend.

So inspired, the wounded wrap themselves, in their final throes, into their flag, the tortilla, to die. I pledge allegiance. I thee devour.

110 W. Washington St., San Diego, The Big Sickz-One-Nine