If simplicity in authenticity reigned supreme, these burritos would have their castle rather than an EZ-UP, a king’s table instead of a folding one, and a golden chest full of cachanilla burritos instead of an igloo with reused tortilla bags full of aluminum-wrapped burritos.
The stretch of Vermont Avenue where you’ll find El Cachanilla Burritos is desolate. Behind the stand is a barbed wired metal fence protecting shipping containers, while across the street, a long-gardened stucco wall gates a residential community.
And there sits Esmeralda Aguilar, of Mexicali, Mex., with a cooler full of burritos, in a small cover of shade cast by the branded banner under her blue EZ-UP. She has a coffee dispenser with cafe de olla and some green salsa she sells in jars. She’s ready to spring up whenever someone pulls over and parks.
Aguilar quickly gets to work reciting her burrito options as she points one by one at the fillings listed on the outside banner, viewable from the inside, thanks to some bright sunlight shining through.