I’ve been hanging out in turntable.fm’s “I ❤️ the ‘80s” room for a year and a half now, spinning tunes while I work a few days a week. Like any online community, we have our inside jokes, rabble rousers, idiosyncrasies, and weirdos. One of these oddities is a fascination for a restaurant chain that few of us live near enough to visit, but which has taken on an almost holy status, worth of a pilgrimage from anywhere. For example, take a discussion I had last week, where I suggested to someone in Pennsylvania who lives four hours away that it would be shameful not to make the trip. Paraphrased from memory.
“It’s only a 4 hour drive. Each way.”
“But I don’t have a car.”
“Get an Uber.”
“They don’t pick up way out here.”
“Then find some Amish guy and pay him to buggy you.”
Of course, I wouldn’t have been this forward if I didn’t have my own pilgrimage planned. I flew from SeaTac to Denver last night, primed my digestive system with dinner from Sonic, and crashed at the Hampton Inn for the night.
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| My scrawled suggestions from those who have made the pilgrimage before me: “meat and potato burrito (#3 or #8), stuffed grilled taco, Taco Bravo” |
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| The gate next to mine was going to Las Vegas. Losers. |
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| Pregaming. Vanilla onion rings and cheesesticks should gird my guts adequately. |
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| I made it! Time to sleep and dream of tacos. |
I woke up too late to take advantage of their free breakfast, but that’s OK, because I didn’t want to fill myself up before I took my first bite of the manna I had planned for lunch.
After a 60 mile drive through the high plans and through interstate construction zones, the restaurant appeared at the crest of a curve, its white sign beaconing high above the rest. As I pulled in, Spotify’s shuffle was playing an appropriate tune.
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| Saving $5.80 in tolls buys another side. |
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| Miles of straight flat freeway are on this side of the Rockies. |
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| “All I know is that to me / it looks like I’m having lunch.” |
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| Taco John’s, Loveland, Colorado. Allegedly, one of their first five locations. |
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| I feel welcome. |
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| Yeah, there’s a massive cemetery across the streets. It’s only sad because they can’t eat here. |
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| What’s inside? |
On the advice of the freaks in I ❤️ the ‘80s, I ordered a Stuffed Grilled Taco, a Meat and Potato Burrito, a Taco Bravo, and made one of those a combo with a soft shell taco, a Potatoes Olé, and a drink.
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| All my half-eaten food: Taco Bravo (in hand), Meat and Potato Burrito (upper right), Stuffed Grilled Taco (center top), Potatoes Olé (center bottom) |
Verdict: the Stuffed Grilled Taco was by far the highlight of my meal. The crunchiness of the interior was a perfect textural contrast, and the melted cheesy/sour creamy/smooth beany goo inside was scaldingly delicious. In the end, it was this that I grabbed an extra bite of.
The Meat and Potatoes Burrito was good. The potato discs tended to dissolve inside and were nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the burrito’s innards. They were much better as the Potatoes Olé, which were a tiny bit squishier than I would’ve liked, but were still mostly crispy and seasoned deliciously.
My wife, who came along for the trip, eyes rolling the whole way, says the soft shell taco was fine. I love that she tolerates my foolishness.
The Taco Bravo was disappointing. Taco Bell does it better with their Cheezy Gordita Crunch. Taco John’s uses bean paste with flecks of unmelted cheese instead a cheese sauce, and doing so just makes for a soft, unappealing, over loaded glop taco.
Two hours later, my stomach was complaining, but shut up, stomach. Nobody cares.
So that’s pretty much it. If you’re a normal person, yeah, Taco John’s is far better than Taco Bell or Del Taco. If you’re one of the turntable.fm nerds, find yourself an Amish buggy or shovel your way across the pass to Reno, and get yourself a Stuffed Grilled Taco.
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