Three hours or more have passed as I stuffed my gullet with heavily salted popcorn awash in artery-killing oils during a space jungle dream. Driving down the midtown streets of Fort Collins, a nameless tent materializes like a roadside hallucination, pumping out grilled meat smells that punch you in the nose in a way that inspires a long-term abusive relationship. Briefly reminded that this is one of the safest cities in America, I am spirited away to the lone light in the dark of a dead car lot, offering scents hardly found in the nigh. The stand has no name, no signage, and no menus are to be found. If you are weak on your Español, expect some friction. Though hunger is a universal language and enough can be figured out to get a hot meal.

I decided on a burrito to keep it direct and simple. Six cuts of meat, or so, were on offer, including calf brains. I’m adventurous, but I tend to keep action vanilla on a first date, so I ordered the al pastor. The thick, 20-oz-plus brick was loaded with marinated pork (al pastor), rice, brown beans, a dash of onions and cilantro, wrapped in a fat grilled sealed tortilla. As the burrito was being assembled, the cart offered salsas and accoutrements, with convenient lidded cups available. The spread included finely chopped onion and cilantro. Cucumber slices. Lime wedges. A colorful escabeche of jalapeño, red onion, and habanero. Three sauces: red, verde, and a cilantro cucumber. While I only got the burrito, I did notice their own horchata on offer.

Fourteen dollars plus tip later, I continued the trip home to have my fill of the acquired burrito. The first bite shuts everything else up and causes awe from the road trip of flavors. Every component knows its place and does it without overpowering another. Al pastor is the backbone, rich with seasoning and char that must come being cooked on the rotating spit for all to see. Never too spicy, as flavor is the goal of every bite. Each sauce had a taste I wanted to be intimate with. The cilantro cucumber was the standout, rich and sharp and clean all at once, cooling the palate while still bringing spice. This is not to discount the other available options, as I’m ready to pull up next time with my own jugs for all three as if I'm prepping for the end times.

In the end, I can’t compare this burrito to any other I’ve had in FoCo. I’m just about close to calling this the best burrito I’ve ingested. The flavor only compares to late-night taco stand trips in Mexico, where the fat content is perfect and unapologetically meaty. At the very least, this is not food to scarf down while chasing a brown bottle flu or training for the bong-a-thon. This is food that demands attention. Just seek the savory smells between 4–10 pm near Drake and McClelland to try a burrito that will make your palate think, especially when you’re already pondering the pathos of blue people.