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Alex and I met last night for dinner at Chipotle. Food there is so utterly flaverful, I have had to order a second bowl to quench my taste buds. I don’t feel particularly hungry upon arriving, but the flavor is so incredible that I find myself plunking down another seven bucks and picking up another fork. I finished eating at around 2200 and I still haven’t become hungry, almost 15 hours later.

When I went there for the first time last summer it was apparent to me very quickly their brilliant recipe for success. These folks had decoded the In-N-Out genome, offer a few menu items and prepare them perfectly, and reapplied it to Mexican food.

Alex and I discussed this issue of mine while we ate, and we concluded that we must hold back on how often I eat there. As of last night the agreement is twice a month, though I feel I may pull back to once a month.

More interesting than the frequency restriction however, is my decision to pose the ultimate American question, “How much?”

Every month, I will sit down at Chipotle, and every month I will attempt to eat one more burrito bol than the month before. July will call for three rounds, August will present a formidible challenge with four, and September looms with five.

It’s going to be quite a summer.

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