Let me start out by saying Taqueria el Farolito is more than a restaurant for me, it's a way of life. Simple fresh ingredients, a warm smile, and substance over style. The menu above the counter looks in places like a cross-eyed high-schooler placed the words on the board, adding to the decidedly anti-corporate/anti-interior designer atmosphere. Thankfully there isn't a bad item on the menu, although I'm religiously partial to the Super Burrito with carne asada.
The Backstory: In 2000 I lived and worked in the Mission, a byproduct of the tech boom that was transforming the neighborhood (Hindsight's 20/20: in some ways for the worse). When I left San Francisco, I returned to Washington DC and it's premiere burrito palace, California Tortilla, but stomach ached for it's separated love. (Although I've always held a place in my heart for CT, it has never been able to fill the void left in my stomach's heart.)
Fast forward 8 years and the prodigal son returned to 24th and Mission, luggage in tow. And this time I brought my brother, ever the burrito skeptic. As my friends can see in video and images on Facebook, we both bowed down to the burrito gods in the promised land.
I've seen paradise; perhaps this is my penance for continuing to patronize McPotle. Now I'm relegated to gloomy Washington DC and the saturated landscape of inauthentic "burrito" purveyors.
Taqueria el Farolito is so good that I would consider making a day-trip just to have a burrito. Crack is whack. Taqueria el Farolito is the bomb-diggity.
Now watch me eat this burrito: