Mucho’s Mexican Food
Eight locations; most open Sun-Thu, 11am-11pm, Fri & Sat,
11am-midnight
I would love to have been a fly on the wall at the board meeting where the
incestuous commingling of Church’s Fried Chicken and Mucho’s Mexican Food was
given the thumbs-up. Decisions like these either land you in the “Movin’ on Up”
column of the company newsletter or on your rumpus at the employment
commission.
In the topsy-turvy, laugh-in-the-mouth-of-death world of Nineties fast
food, the key to survival is culinary narrowcasting: Be everything to everybody
everywhere. This is why we have McDonald’s in Wal-Mart, Taco Bell in Doritos,
and now, Mexican food (only bigger) at a fried chicken hut. It’s all about
convenience.
Of course, the Church’s/Mucho’s juggernaut isn’t a winning combo for
everyone. Church’s employees are now essentially working at two fast food
restaurants for one paycheck. The increased traffic and additional
taco-building stations seem to have impaired the overall efficiency of the
kitchen, but we humans can adapt to any number of impositions, so it shouldn’t
be long before the almighty bourgeosie can get their chicken and tacos with the
lightning-fast speed they expect and demand.
But what will John Q. Public taste when he bites the big burrito? Can
Mucho’s stack up against Taco Bell, the undisputed fast-food choice of
Generation Pierced?
Well, quantity is a quality, and Mucho’s certainly delivers on that
front. Their soft tacos are almost the size of San Francisco burritos, and
their burritos are roughly the size of newborns. Not surprisingly, the chicken
tacos reign supreme. You get plenty of seasoned chunks o’ fowl that go down
heartily, easily outdoing the competition’s semi-shredded edition. The
monstrosity is topped with lots of lettuce and cheese, along with sour cream
and a mild salsa that barely aspires beyond ketchup.
The nachos come with the same mutant orange queso that makes going to the
stadium so much fun; it takes you back to those New Frontier days, when such
artificial yumminess was en vogue. Be sure to ration your dippin’ sauce,
though, because Mucho’s gives you approximately two Frito-Lay Big Grabs’ worth
of tortilla chips.
Unfortunately, Mucho’s beef product is no match for Taco Bell’s
mirth-inducing zest. In fact, my palate found Mucho’s meat to be more akin to
shredded tamale pork than ground chuck. The flavor’s just not there, and quite
frankly, it tastes a little weird. Another beef I have with Mucho’s is
the lack of beans on the chalupas. Even though the chalupa shell is as big as a
Nerf, Jr., football, such an expanse is spiritually vacuous in the absence of
the frijole ghost.
Perhaps the true strength of the Church’s/Mucho’s marriage is the endless
potential for unorthodox meal combinations. Do you want fried okra with that
burrito? How about some mashed potatoes with your nachos? It’s opportunities
like these that make me proud to be an American, where at least I know I can
sate my jones for tacos and gizzards at one sitting. – Greg Beets
This article appears in July 7 • 1995 and July 7 • 1995 (Cover).