Culinary Excellence: The Allsup's Burrito

I've tried many times to remember stories from my college days but have failed miserably.  The combination of time, alcohol and bong resin have blurred my memory.  I can recall arriving at Eastern New Mexico University in the fall of 1983 and waking up from a drunken stupor in May, 1986 with a bachelors degree.  In between, reality is subjective.

There are a few facts that have emerged over the last few months. First, I remember sitting between Abbie and Shawne during art class.  That is as close to utopia as I've ever experienced. Next, I know I joined the Kappa Sigma Fraternity and met some of the best guys on earth.  And finally, I discovered the universe's greatest comfort food, the Allsup's Chimichanga.

For those not familiar with Allsup's, it is a convenience store chain in Eastern New Mexico and West Texas.  Their merchandising is eclectic.  Off brands flourish in these stores.  You'll find more Tom's potatos chips than Lay's.  They have as many facings of Shasta as Coke.  Their grocery and hard goods section is dominated the Shur Fine label.  You can get Shur Fine branded products ranging from peanut butter to tampons.  But, it is the Chimis that are the cash cows in these stores.

Officially names Allsup's Chuck Wagon famous beef and been burrito.  The stores have fryers that are constantly in use.  The fryers give the entire store a slippery atmosphere.

After leaving the fryer, the burritos are put under a heat lamp to soak in their own sweat.  The time under the lights soften the flour tortilla to a consistency hovering between crisp and soggy.  The best way to describe it is "pliable."  The meat and bean mixture has a consistency of spackling.  The taste is slightly spicier.  It has enough preservatives to survive a nuclear attack. The burritos can survive indefinitely on their own because of their inpenetrable veneer of lard.

The burrito's highest sales occur on the weekend between one and two in the morning.  That's when the bars let out and the campus parties shut down.  There are no late night McDonald's or Denny's open from the intoxicated masses to retire to appease their hunger.  The only place to go is Allsup's.  

Two or three times a week, my fraternity brothers and I would end our evenings consuming these golden brown cylinders of culinary perfection.  Many was the night that we sat on the curb, eating out chimis and washing it down with the last of the Old Milwaukee.  

The nutritional value of Allsup's burrito's is pornographic.  One  has 690 calories.  They contain 30 grams of fat, 60 mg of cholesterol, 2110 mg of sodium, and 79 grams of carbs.  To top if off, there is zero percent of vitamins A, B6, B12, C, D and E.  There is also no iron, calcium, niacin, zinc, etc.  The only nutritional value is 26 grams of protein.

Despite their obvious deficiencies, Allsup's burritos were always my good friend in the middle of the night. On many mornings I would wake up on the couch with a half eaten chimi lying beside me.  I'd reach between the couch covers, find a packet of salsa and have breaskfast.

As an alumnus, I return for homecoming, fully knowing Allsup's is in my future.  Much like the children of Israel following Moses through the desert, a dozen or so alumni end our weekend staggering from the fraternity house, lead by Ol' Timmy.  We stumble the block and a half to our utopia.  

We still sit on the curb outside the store on 2nd Street, middle aged men reliving our pasts and hardening our arteries.

Dedicated to my de facto editor:  Melisa Mauser