Why you have to hate your burrito!

Now and then, I like to give real-world advice from things I have learned, thereby saving others from my misfortune. I have such advice now, and believe me; I learned it the hard way.

Burritos!

When making homemade burritos, it is the law in some states that you must overfill them. After all, no one likes an empty burrito. If however, you are anything like me, you overfill that sucker almost immediately, even though you promised yourself not a minute earlier you weren’t going to overfill the damn thing. So here’s the advice: When folding a burrito filled to this magnitude, three things are important: speed, leverage, and hatred. Also, if you are suffering from carpal tunnel or some arthritis, you’re going to need to find help.

Speed

The speed comes in when you go for that primary fold. And all the ungrateful ingredients make a run for it. Don’t let them. One single, quick action at this point can save you cleaning Carne Asada off your t-shirt later.

The leverage is needed right after you make that initial fold. If you are successful with this first move, you are committed, and there is no going back. You have to grab up your burrito contents, using the same movement like that arm in the back of a garbage truck, same motion. Using the tortilla shell, reach out and roll your fingers underneath while pulling all the contents backward. Just like a garbage truck! Using maximum leverage, you fold whatever end has the least amount of content, simultaneously completing the final roll.

(Side note: If you find yourself stuffing content back in one end of the burrito, that’s OK. What’s not OK is if you are doing it at both ends, cause this means you royally f***** up, and the burrito got the better of you.)

(Side note to the side note: If you find yourself in this position, bail immediately. Get some tortilla chips, pour the entire burrito content on top of them, and tell everyone you were making nachos the entire time. Be sure to appreciate you may have bitten off more than you can chew and should have just made nachos from the beginning.)

And last but not least, HATRED.

To pull all this off successfully, everything has to work together, and for that to happen, you have to HATE the burrito. This seems extreme, I know, but trust me, hatred is critical. You have to hate because you cannot show the burrito any mercy if you have any hope this works out in your favor. The second you show mercy, the burrito will sense weakness, and then you have a real mess and a whole new set of problems.

You’re only concern at this point needs to be how good the burrito is going to taste when you can enjoy it in an easy, sanitary, and orderly way. That happens by attacking the folding process with a fervent dislike of the burrito. You can not care for its well-being; after all, your about to eat it for god’s sake.

I’m not saying hate it like the North hates the South. Rather, hate it in a quiet, gentler way. You know, like Gilligan hated the Skipper. Sure, on the outside, everything seemed OK, but deep inside, we all knew that Gilligan would have murdered that old Skipper if given a chance. That kind of hate.

Or, you could not overfill your burrito. Not something I can remotely understand, but I’m sure there is a mensa club member that can figure out how to do it.

That burrito I had for lunch today was good.