Portland now has its very own Chipotle.  It opened last week at the old Century Tire lot that is now a strip mall of low-slung glass and steel trimmed buildings fronting Marginal Way. In earlier plans Dunkin Donuts was slated to be the other anchor tenant at Century Plaza, but there’s been no confirmation—or sign–that it’s happening. What a shame.   A T-Mobile franchise is going in instead.

Chipotle Portland front and rear views

Chipotle Portland front and rear views

Almost anything could have been plopped down there: a 10 story apartment building, a mall of high-end retailers, a supermarket like Market Basket, a mid-priced hotel and so much more.  But here we have it: a fast food chain of middling Mexican junk food, which anchors the hodgepodge of development along this meandering boulevard.

But let me say up front (as though you hadn’t guessed already): I don’t like Chipotle.  What’s there to like?  At best it’s barely mock Mexican, the usual schlock of tacos, burritos and quesadillas, stuffed to the gills with tasteless fillings.

The food service at Chipogle

The food service and tables at Chipotle

I’ve been to the one in the mall, having accompanied friends from time to time who just love the place as though it were the best last meal on earth.  So much for taste. I’m not sure I should be friends with these undiscerning gastronomes who like to wait on line to be served the schnibbles and bits from an ersatz conga line of ingredients.

Meats, sauces and salsas

Meats, sauces and salsas

Of course the chain is still in recovery mode from its earlier troubles of tainted food that felled many patrons with food poisoning coast to coast.

The new Marginal Way space, though, is certainly sleek looking with polished wood and stainless steel.  It’s neat and clean, though the layout is a bit weird.  You enter the restaurant by driving to the rear parking lot and going through the doors right into the restaurant.  That’s OK.

Tabasco selection

Tabasco selection

But when you drive by it on the avenue you see tables and chairs on a deck, meant, of course, for outdoor eating once the weather is warm enough.

But it’s a long trail down a narrow corridor, which also takes you to the rest rooms before reaching the doors onto the patio.

I inspected it, only to have the door lock behind me, leaving me momentarily stranded.  I walked down the long sidewalk to the rear of the building and went inside again.

I’m a total novice in the finer points of Chipotle’s menu.  I figured I’d play safe with tacos since I find burritos pure travesty.  But others love those overstuffed gummy wraps, which to me cause no end of gastrointestinal heaving.  I’d much rather have it fried, a chimichanga

So I ordered three tacos: one with a crispy shell and the other two soft.  I had chicken, beef and pork fillings with all of the various salsas and a very oniony guacamole covered with shredded lettuce (often a reliable source of e-coli).

A trio of tacos

A trio of tacos

The tomato salsa oozed out of one of the tacos and made my little taco basket a veritable puddle of water, leaving the remains of these three things wet and soggy.  What a mess.  It took several trips to the napkin dispenser to wipe up the detritus of lunch. There was, however, a modicum of flavor, mostly traces of cumin, which I like.  But otherwise, except for a tall glass of Coke, I gladly dumped the whole in the garbage.

The disintegration of the taco in three easy steps

The disintegration of the taco in three easy steps

Well if y’all fast food fans who crave this bulge, by all means, it’s conveniently located and economical to grab a bite to fortify your day.