Dear NAFTA,
Thank you.
When I bite into a Burro Burrito, I forget about global warming and the moral dilemma of bottled water. The world begins to make sense... I start to picture my first love, Monique, and the way she smiled at me across the playground. This euphoric carrot chase lasts for about 47 seconds while I devour my cherished "Loaf of Love" (I feel burrito is too harsh of a word for such a display of artistic brilliance).
If Little Italy isn't your local haunt, try their Mole Burrito pronounced "Mole'eH!" (locals know). Don't worry, if you ever played flip cup, you can order for your friends.
Just promise me you won't be fooled by the lackluster interior and blinding signage, this isn't a nail salon turned eatery, think of it more as a gift from the Mexican Queen of Awesome Burritos.
Sincerely yours,