It was hot downtown, somewhere in the high 80s with that classic Baltimore humidity that makes you feel like you're wearing everyone else's sweat. Perfect for a colon-clearing dose of spicy Mexican grub.
As I entered the air-conditioned bliss of California Tortilla (Cal Tort as some call it), I was greeted by a wave of tantalizing smells. Situated across from Oriole Park, California Tortilla is clean and colorful and has plenty of seating. The walls of the well-lit interior are scattered with juvenile humor, generally involving hot sauce of some kind.
The substantial menu features lots of salads, 10 different kinds of burritos, quesadillas and plenty of vegetarian wraps. When I arrived, the line was short enough that within minutes I was able to place my order for the steak fajita platter. Along with some tie-wearing working stiffs, I waited about five minutes for my food. It looked good enough, with generous piles of toppings, tender steak and tortillas wrapped in foil. Competition for Chipotle just across Pratt Street? Perhaps. Except, they forgot my chips.
Unwilling to fight through a quickly growing crowd of impatient business-folk on hurried lunch breaks, I retreated to a table facing Howard Street. From there, I had a view of the Convention Center and Inner Harbor -- that is, until the Light Rail came to what felt like a permanent rest three feet from my window.
No longer distracted by people-watching, I turned my attention to the chow -- three hot, five-inch flour tortillas, served with guacamole, tomato chunks, lettuce, black beans, rice, onions and peppers. The toppings were fresh and plentiful. I wasn't sure where the hell I was supposed to put it all, but by God, I would make it fit.
The house specialty -- hot sauce -- stole the show. Never have I seen so much hot sauce in one place. At least one bottle could be found on every table, the steak came soaked in it, the walls were lined with it and a huge rack next to the soda dispenser displayed hundreds of brands, free for your "enjoyment." I stuck with the basic smokey chipotle, which, I have to say, easily beat out Chipotle's chipotle sauce. So much for namesakes. Since this was plenty hot, I was too scared to try anything more potent.
My saving grace? Completely free, unlimited (did I mention free?) drink refills.
Dish: California Tortilla has a much more diverse menu than its closest competition, Chipotle. Quesadillas, salads, soups and a balcony for private parties all make it an appealing alternative. The fajitas were quick, spicy and tasty; the hot sauce was killer.
Damage: Completely ignoring my near-empty wallet, I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. A platter with three steak fajitas set me back $7.49, a little steep, but filling. I opted for the combo deal, which supposedly added nachos, cheese and a soda for $1.99. At $9.48, when you count all the free refills, that's not a bad deal.
Decision: It comes down to the wire. If you love quesadillas, like to order carry-out by phone, are frequently at the ballpark or just freakin' love hot sauce, try California Tortilla. Otherwise, stick with the haven of goodness that is Chipotle.
As I entered the air-conditioned bliss of California Tortilla (Cal Tort as some call it), I was greeted by a wave of tantalizing smells. Situated across from Oriole Park, California Tortilla is clean and colorful and has plenty of seating. The walls of the well-lit interior are scattered with juvenile humor, generally involving hot sauce of some kind.
Unwilling to fight through a quickly growing crowd of impatient business-folk on hurried lunch breaks, I retreated to a table facing Howard Street. From there, I had a view of the Convention Center and Inner Harbor -- that is, until the Light Rail came to what felt like a permanent rest three feet from my window.
No longer distracted by people-watching, I turned my attention to the chow -- three hot, five-inch flour tortillas, served with guacamole, tomato chunks, lettuce, black beans, rice, onions and peppers. The toppings were fresh and plentiful. I wasn't sure where the hell I was supposed to put it all, but by God, I would make it fit.
The house specialty -- hot sauce -- stole the show. Never have I seen so much hot sauce in one place. At least one bottle could be found on every table, the steak came soaked in it, the walls were lined with it and a huge rack next to the soda dispenser displayed hundreds of brands, free for your "enjoyment." I stuck with the basic smokey chipotle, which, I have to say, easily beat out Chipotle's chipotle sauce. So much for namesakes. Since this was plenty hot, I was too scared to try anything more potent.
My saving grace? Completely free, unlimited (did I mention free?) drink refills.
Dish: California Tortilla has a much more diverse menu than its closest competition, Chipotle. Quesadillas, salads, soups and a balcony for private parties all make it an appealing alternative. The fajitas were quick, spicy and tasty; the hot sauce was killer.
Damage: Completely ignoring my near-empty wallet, I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu. A platter with three steak fajitas set me back $7.49, a little steep, but filling. I opted for the combo deal, which supposedly added nachos, cheese and a soda for $1.99. At $9.48, when you count all the free refills, that's not a bad deal.
Decision: It comes down to the wire. If you love quesadillas, like to order carry-out by phone, are frequently at the ballpark or just freakin' love hot sauce, try California Tortilla. Otherwise, stick with the haven of goodness that is Chipotle.
