My Yelp Review of This Mexican Microwave Dinner

Having spent 15 years in San Antonio, I should have known better than to purchase and consume a “Mexican food microwave dinner.” However, as is sometimes the case, my strange tastes led me into dangerous waters and I attempted to eat this for lunch today.

The first thing that is to be noticed is the cover picture on the box. The enchiladas, rice and beans look as though they have been arranged by Abuelita herself, lovingly, diligently, and with just the right touch of sass in Espanol. But upon opening the package, the customer is met with a disturbing sight: the hard and excellent work of Abuelita is gone, and it has been replaced with the quick work of what appears to be an elementary school cafeteria worker, cigarette dangling from her lips as she snarls directions to the frightened children. Apparently, she has run over the enchiladas with her Honda Accord first, then dumped them unceremoniously into the black cauldron that passes for a plate. She has separated the rice and beans—a major faux pas that is simply unforgivable—and has sealed everything with the familiar plastic lid of doom. The rice is congealed and caked together like a gelatinous pudding of rice-shaped shards of cardboard. The beans are only “beans” in the academic sense, having begun their origin story during the actual rebellion of Pancho Villa. 

The directions state that the plastic film is to be left on while you microwave this masterpiece at 4-4.5 minutes. In my experience, the rest of the world employs microwaves for the sole purpose of making food mildly warm on the outside and frozen solid on the inside—so I always opt for the higher number. This decision resulted in a bean-like lava that oozed underneath the cardboard-tasting tube that called itself an enchilada. The plate was impossible to touch, yet the food remained startlingly lukewarm, other than the bean-lava, which vaporized the plate in a Pompei-esque coating of hell.

This “Mexican microwave dinner” is an abomination in the sight of God—and Mexicans, and anyone who appreciates food. I cannot understand how the manufacturers of this product continue to stay in business, but apparently there are a lot of people who cavalierly buy this execrable excuse for a lunch.

I regret to confess that, for this one moment in time, I was one such jackwagon. May this Yelp review wave off any over-exuberant baserunners who are thinking of rounding the third base of hunger toward the force-out of food poisoning at home plate. You’re welcome.