Special Qué
It was about 1 AM on a Saturday in September. I was ravenously hungry after a mind-blowing set by Bloomington, Indiana’s legendary John Wilkes Booze at a hole-in-the-wall in north Koreatown/south Hollywood called Il Corral. I needed a burrito like a USC sorostitute needs coke. Driving east on Melrose, I saw what could only be a 24-hour taqueria come into view. I was Brigham Young cresting the Wasatch Range and seeing the Great Salt Lake. THIS IS THE PLACE. DRIVE ON.
I parked in a strip mall’s lot, where a toothless bum sat rocking himself in place like Bizarro Bill Gates. I went to the counter. The menu helpfully explained to me what burritos and tacos 
were, since I obviously had never eaten them before. No matter: I needed pig, and I needed it fast. “Burrito al pastor, with everything, for here, and a small Mountain Dew.” I greedily unwrapped it and bit down. It was like Trainspotting or Requiem for a Dream, this pastor. The flavors of the marinated pork and a hint of salsa roja combined to induce transsubstantiation in my mouth. For a brief moment, I was creator of worlds beyond number. Entire galaxies were at my command. Subatomic forces were my playthings.
I did a 24-hour hour, midnight-to-midnight fast this past Sunday. By 11:55, I was famished. I
knew exactly where to go, though: I hopped on the 10, took the 110 north, emerged from the womb of the Four-Level onto the 101 north, and got off at Vermont. I didn’t need pig this time, though. “Birria burrito, for here. Con todo.” I smiled as the zesty, gamey, tender
slow-cooked goat and the beans, rice, onions, and cilantro mingled on my tongue with the first bite. There is a God in heaven, and He truly loves me.
Qué Ricos is at 712 N. Vermont Avenue (just north of Melrose), Los Angeles. It is open 24/7.
go there late on a saturday night. you will see gay cholos and gay chunts (mexican cowboys). hilarious. its the greatest compliment to their delicious food.
So that’s what a “chunt” is. When I worked tech support in college there was this frequent caller who we always referred to as “Chunt” (his name was Charlie Hunt), and the Puertorriqueña who was our nominal supervisor let us know that this was a slightly offensive term.
I LLLLOOOVVVEE Que Rico’s i’ve taken so many people here after a night of partying, It’s some of the best 24hr mexican i’ve ever had. And to add to the whole chunt discussion, a Chunt is a fairly new immigrant from central america (or a hispanic person who has been here long but still doesn’t know any english) Mexican Cowboys are called Pysa’s or Pysano’s
Chuntlemen–do we need to break out the urban dichuntary?
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=chunt
I can’t possibly imagine why your female boss would be offended by the word. Urban dictionary aside it doesn’t really sound like any other word I’ve heard. . .
like a USC sorostitute needs coke
I think you just coined a new term.
“Sorostitute” has been used for upwards of a decade on many, if not most, American college and university campuses. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard it yet.
Nice job, mi novio electronico.
For the record, a “pysa” is really paisa, short for paisano or countryman. Same as the Italian paisan. Most often it is used by Mexicans from the Northern states; however, it is not necessarily shorthand for cowboy. I think its closest english equivalent would be homeboy.
Also, when used in a pejorative context, usually by 2nd generation Mexican-Americans, it can connote lack of sophistication or assimilation in a type of Mexican immigrant.
About the “sororstitute,” I’m quite surprised I haven’t heard it either. Especially because I was in a sorority! I guess I didn’t fit the profile. Phew.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
THEY CHANGED THE PASTOR RECIPE! NOW IT’S DRY AND FLAVORLESS!
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
OK, I had the pastor again, but in taco form. Now I think I know why they changed it: on a taco, it is delicious. When the ratio of salsa to meat is at high (taco) levels, as opposed to low (burrito) ones, one doesn’t need the extra moisture that usually comes with pastor. It’s some damn good roja, that’s for sure–hot but not painful, savory, and smoky. I’m not sure if it would inspire me to post-JWB hallucinations, but it might get me close with sufficient dehydration and/or chemical inputs.
I finally tried this place before the holiday. The birria burrito was not bad, with the exception of a gigantic glob of goat fat. The pastor taco fared better. Both were cheap as hell and just what the doctor ordered at 9 in the morning.
O sea para los cholos que ven este mail hablemen por celular a 601 580 1782? Quiero verga’