The burrito of my youth. I don’t get there as often as I used to, but unlike many fond memories, the reality holds up to the nostalgia. The pile of meat on the griddle greets you as you wait to order:

The smell of steak is in the air. The burritos are enormous:

Help yourself to some hot carrots and jalapeños:

Sure, I’m biased. But if I could only eat one burrito for the rest of my life, this is it. The pride of Summit.