Thomas DeVillers
A machine that makes burritos at the push of a button. Such Star Trek-like technology seems like a dream.
Yet Burrito Box, a vending machine that serves burritos cooked hot after you press that button, tries to make that dream a reality. The concept launched in California only two years ago and is quickly spreading to college towns across the country — i.e., the places where people are often drunk enough to order a vending machine burrito.
Madison’s first Burrito Box recently arrived at Capitol Centre Market, 111 N. Broom St. The downtown grocery store, open 24 hours a day, is a smart location. It is near all the Miffland and Bassett student apartments, where there are few options for hot food after bar time.
The Burrito Box is prominently displayed in Cap Centre’s entryway, right next to the shopping carts. The machine itself is a garish orange-yellow color, and the entire front panel is a giant touchscreen. You press the touchscreen to pick either one of four burritos or tortilla chips. You are then given the option to add “sides” — aka condiments — salsa, guacamole, sour cream and hot sauce. The sides are reasonably priced, except for hot sauce — 25 cents for one small packet seems a bit excessive.
It takes a minute for the machine to “cook” the burritos. The machine plays a music video to keep the patron entertained. However, this Burrito Box’s speaker has been turned off, so I watched the first minute of “Hotline Bling” without sound.
The cooking mechanism in the Burrito Box is a closely guarded company secret, but the burritos come out very hot, as though they’ve been both steamed and microwaved. The condiments drop down separately from a refrigerated compartment.
A few friends and I decided to take on every option the Burrito Box had to offer. I started with steak. The grilled steak and cheese burrito was sub-par even compared to a frozen grocery store microwave burrito. The steak was practically nonexistent — this was mostly flour tortilla, corn and rice, an indistinguishable mush of flavorless carbs.
On a side note, you want to unwrap your burrito right away when it comes out of the Burrito Box. I ended up waiting about two minutes and a bunch of the tortilla ended up sticking to the wrapper.
The chipotle chicken and black bean burrito fared better. There were identifiable bits of chicken, and the black beans retained a bit of texture. It still wasn’t amazing; Taco Bell would win out in a taste test. But it was better than I expected from a vending machine.
Two breakfast burrito options are available: bacon, egg and hash browns; and sausage, egg and hash browns. I don’t eat pork, so my friends tried these, and they enjoyed them; so if you eat pork, this may be the way to go. They did note that the eggs were what you would expect from a pre-cooked egg product — a little rubbery.
The only non-meat option available is the toasted tortilla chips. Luckily, the chips are the best thing the Burrito Box has to offer. Whatever science or magic this vending machine uses made for delicious hot chips that taste remarkably like the basket of chips they drop off as an appetizer at many family-style Mexican and Tex-Mex places. At 95 cents for the chips and 65 cents for the salsa, it made for a good snack. The guacamole was what you would expect, though: green mayo with a thickening agent.
While the chips are a good value, the four burritos are a bit overpriced at $4.95, higher than the price of most Taco Bell burritos. Purchasing condiments can raise that price by a dollar or more. And at $6, we’re approaching Chipotle prices for gas station quality.
The vending machine also has stocking issues. It was out of at least two sides on each of my visits. A friend of mine said she tried to buy a burrito out of curiosity after an Overture show only to find that the machine was completely sold out.
The Burrito Box is exactly what it sets out to be: a way of getting hot food to college students. Though for five bucks, I’d advise those students to walk the extra 20 feet into Capitol Centre Market and pick up a frozen pizza.