Is Chipotle opening in Mexico a good or bad thing for the country? An MND debate

I can't lie, I love Chipotle. I have never considered myself a foodie (I'm from Wisconsin, need I say more?) but I think it's impossible to argue that Chipotle does not hit the rare restaurant trifecta of fast service, good food and good price. Most restaurants struggle to give you two of those things, but Chipotle is one of those special places that gives you all three.

I think it's important to point out that Chipotle does not go out of its way to try to convince you that it is "authentic Mexican food." They don't have pictures of Mexican ruins or cities or waterfalls on the walls and don't play Mexican music on the sound system. The logo and store design don't play off of the Mexican flag or its colors and there is no chihuahua marketing to you in broken Spanish. The menu doesn't have any authentic Mexican-sounding product names — no Chimichanga, Chalupa or Gordita there. About the only "Mexican" thing about the place, other than the food, is the somewhat tacky, industrial-looking Mayan sculpture art (if you can call it that) on the walls.

Chipotle, the US fast food chain, opens its first restaurant in Mexico this week

And hence, I don't think my Mexican friends south of the border should be offended by the arrival of Chipotle to Mexican territory. No, President Sheinbaum, it is not an invasion of Mexican sovereignty. You see, Chipotle has positioned itself, and its food, as an entirely unique genre: kinda Mexican, but kinda not Mexican. In my 30+ years spending time in Mexico, I have only had probably half a dozen burritos, and none of them have been anything like a Chipotle burrito. Most Mexicans I know don't really eat burritos, and when they do, they are different.

A few months ago, not having been in the U.S. for a while, I was craving one and dragged my Mexican colleagues in San Miguel to the only real burrito place I know of in town. My colleagues quickly ordered and then I struggled my way through my order. Not because of language, but because this was no Chipotle menu. My very frustrating ordering experience took about 10 minutes as I tried to convince the cashier to allow me to custom order something similar to a Chipotle burrito. It did not go well, ended up being nothing like a Chipotle burrito, cost a whopping 340 pesos (nearly $20 USD) and took them over 15 minutes to make. Neither they nor I were satisfied with the final product.

The bottom line: Chipotle is not going to compete with any existing authentic Mexican restaurants here any more than McDonald's, Shake Shack or Tim Hortons do. It's a different product, a different experience and a different level of service. In fact, I think that Chipotle will have a positive effect on the industry as a whole. They will bring good service, fair pricing, a consistent quality of food, quality fountain drink soda (very sorely lacking at most restaurants here) and clean bathrooms. They will bring competition, and fair competition is a good thing. They will help raise the bar of expectations that many diners expect from a restaurant.

I look at their arrival in Mexico in a similar light to how I saw multinational companies coming to Mexico. The companies coming in were certainly disruptive to local established companies, but they also brought with them different management styles, new work cultures, employee training programs and environmental sustainability practices. In many cases, they quickly became an employer of choice for many workers.

I am willing to bet that many Mexicans will ultimately be won over by Chipotle and end up becoming customers. Not because they have more authentic Mexican food than what they are eating today, but because they will appreciate the speed, quality, and affordability of the experience. They will appreciate the quality bathrooms, good air conditioning, and bright, clean eating environment. I have seen this with other international restaurant chains in Mexico and I expect it to be no different with Chipotle.

The choice of the first location, Monterrey, says a lot to me. They are not targeting vacationing gringos in Cancun. They are not targeting digital nomads in Condesa in Mexico City. They are targeting Mexicans in a distinctly Mexican city. We will see how it goes. I wish them well.

Travis, as we say in Mexican lands, "híjole." That's what we say when we genuinely don't know where to begin.

I'll admit I felt a small pang of professional betrayal reading this. Are you telling me that all the effort I've put into my Taste of Mexico series was for nothing? How does the inauguration of a Chipotle excite you more than eating a fresh tuna or a pitaya straight off the cactus? I can't believe this. Sacrilegio, Travis. Sacrilegio. (Please, read it in a "novela" voice).

But let's set aside the fact that I apparently failed to turn you into a foodie, and get to the sentence that actually matters here: Chipotle calls itself a "Mexican grill," and as you yourself pointed out, it's everything but Mexican. We could argue it's more Tex-Mex, but even the purists would push back on that — as you said, a "real" burrito looks nothing like Chipotle's newborn-sized version.

Now, a confession. Not only have I eaten at Chipotle — I've done it willingly. Worse: I've enjoyed it. The circumstances, in my defense, were dire. I'd spent the previous ten hours wandering the San Marcos Outlet, fooling myself like many other whitexicans into believing we were beating the system with a Ralph Lauren shirt at 40% off (the discount we always convince ourselves is a steal). I was high on shopping and mildly hallucinating. My second Chipotle experience was at the Atlanta airport, and that baby burrito tasted like heaven. This surprised me. I expected it to be fine, but it was better than fine — and I could rest easy knowing I'd found the one thing chain restaurants can actually guarantee: consistency.

And that's where we land on some common ground. Alsea is the Mexican-born giant, founded right here in Mexico City, that quietly operates practically every international chain you've eaten at across 12 countries: Starbucks, Burger King, Domino's, Vips, Chili's, P.F. Chang's, The Cheesecake Factory and now, Chipotle. Alsea knows exactly what it's doing, and I completely agree with you: this isn't an attack on our sovereignty — nor, I'd add, on our culinary history — but let's not pretend it's nothing, either.

What we're watching is the continuation of the Americanization of our street food culture, one air-conditioned, brightly-lit franchise at a time. Remind me to tell you the story of the first McDonald's in Mexico sometime — it's a better parable for this debate than either of us has given it credit for. As you said, Chipotle chose Monterrey, where buying groceries across the border is practically a weekend ritual and most people have already had the real thing. Its arrival won't extinguish the taquero on the corner.

It'll generate a few months of hype, and then quietly take its place alongside Shake Shack, Burger King, McDonald's, Domino's, Starbucks and Little Caesars — all franchises that, in their moment, were also accused of coming for our soul and instead just… became part of the landscape. What troubles me, though, is that where some people used to choose a fondita or the taquero on the corner, now they reach for a quick fix at one of these fast food joints instead — and that is definitely changing eating habits in our cities.

May we all find some equilibrium between the fonditas, the street tacos, Chipotle, Sanborns and everything in between. Travis, I'm still hurt that you'd choose a Chipotle burrito over a real one. All my efforts to turn you into a proper Mexican foodie, straight to the trash can. I don't know if this friendship survives.