The Taste Bud: The Taco Bell Chili Cheese Burrito Lives Among Us

The legendary Chili Cheese Burrito. Just look at that thing. Photo by Kevin Gibson

I had finally given up on getting my hands around another Taco Bell Chili Cheese Burrito. For some time, I would ask and hope, and I often would be rewarded with a location that would make the classic ‘90s item for me, off-menu. But over the last few years, I finally stopped asking. Because when you hear “no” enough times, well, you lose hope.

I should have kept asking.

Recently, my friend Laura and I were talking about Taco Bell and the Chili Cheese Burrito came up. I bemoaned the fast-food oddity, which is a simple burrito tortilla wrapped around basic shredded cheese and chili. And that’s it.

She said, “There are a couple in Louisville that still have them.” Wait, what?

If you’re not familiar or simply don’t remember the Chili Cheese Burrito, originally called the Chilito when it was first unveiled to the public, know that it was something of an obsession for a lot of ‘90s kids. (The quick name change was never explained, but rumor has it that in Spanish-speaking places, the word “chilito” is sometimes used as a slang word for a component of male genitalia.)

I wasn’t a kid in the 1990s, but I admit I was a helluva lot younger. I tried one while having lunch with co-workers in around 1995, and I quickly became addicted. I mean, how could anyone resist the kind of boffo marketing below?

There literally were many days when I would leave my job as a sportswriter in New Albany and instead of heading home to have dinner with my wife and young son, I would go to Taco Bell, get a Chilito (they were under a buck!) at the drive-through, and eat it on the way home. But hey, my then wife got to choose what we had for dinner more often that way.

So, for years, my standard order at The Bell was a Chili Cheese Burrito and two crunchy tacos. I mean, years. As time went by, I ate less and less fast food, and these days Taco Bell comes into my life maybe three or four times a year. But anytime I did go, I always wanted my classic order, and usually had no luck. None of the Taco Bell locations I visited in Louisville in recent times had the item on their main menu.

But the location Laura suggested (by way of her fiancé Travis) was the one at 3520 Bardstown Road in Buechel. Sure enough, if you check out the app menu, there they are. (So, check the online menus or this Chilito locator to find a location near you, if you’re after the Chilito experience too.)

Success!

They’re a hefty $3.19 now, which isn’t ideal, but I didn’t care. It was the nostalgia I was after. My fiancée and I arrived at the location, and lo and behold, while the item I sought wasn’t on the menu board, it was in the kiosk menu. I dialed up two, plus a Mexican Pizza for Cynthia, and lunch was on.

My burritos weren’t tightly wrapped and were a bit, er, saggy, which wasn’t a huge surprise – Chili Cheese Burritos and their textures traditionally tended to vary based on who was behind the counter making them (I once was served a Chilito with onions in it). Well, I sliced the first one open and the ingredients oozed onto the parchment paper, familiar aromas of cheap chili and shredded cheese which is just *this* close to being plastic.

I took that first bite and, sure enough, I was momentarily transported back in time. Savory, kind of basic, but with that weird Taco Bell meat and that unusual, for lack of a better word, quality, which is what separates Taco Bell from actual Mexican food. But in the ‘90s, and with apologies to White Castle, this burrito was truly what I craved.

I scarfed them both down, barely stopping to take a breath, basking in the satisfaction of, in a way, being able to go home again. By the next morning, my digestive system was in knots, and I remembered that it isn’t the 1990s any longer. Or even the middle 2000s, for that matter. The double Chili Cheese Burrito experience had gotten the best of me this time.

And while I was reminded for all of that next day and much of the day after that one cannot go home again – unless one literally lives on a toilet, that is – I can’t say I necessarily regret it. I told a friend this story and said, “I don’t know if I’ll eat another one.” She assured me, “Oh, you will.”

And she’s right. I know she’s right. I will surely eat another one. I just won’t eat two.

Note: If you’d like to see the Chili Cheese Burrito come back to menus nationally, here’s a petition you can sign.