I have a bone to pick with the tipster who sent me an email professing his adoration for the chile relleno torta at the joint where the above flash was snapped. He assured me that my time wouldn't be wasted, that the torta would evoke sighs of rapture and groans of pleasure. Dude, you couldn't have been any more misleading.
Whose torta, lobbed with iceberg, a lone slice of tomato, a smear of woefully unseasoned guacamole and a chopped chile relleno that tasted like last month's fryer grease, would I never eat again?
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