Tortilla (Restaurant)

Mmm Mexico, I remember thee well. I’ve been lucky enough to visit and have nothing but fond memories of the food, pleasant (albeit hazy) memories of the tequila, and, well, for the rest – what happened in Mexico stays in Mexico. Luckily. Jose, if you’re reading, I apologise about the carpet. Maria, I’m sorry about the toilet-seat. I didn’t even realise it was in my backpack until I went through customs. They said they would use it in their staff bathroom if that makes you feel any better.

Anyway, enough reminiscing, best kept filed away in the dark recesses of my memory alongside “that time you ate your girlfriend’s dad’s dentures” and “the day you mixed up the deodorant and car windscreen de-icer cans”.

Tortilla is a fairly new chain of Mexican-themed fast food outlets, seemingly following the Subway template of choosing which ingredients you want before having staff prepare a delicious feast right in front of you. Furnished with long thin tables and stools, this is a destination for grabbing a quick bite to eat rather than a sit-down meal. Grab with both hands and feet if possible, as the portions are HUGE, fatter than the wallets of the Canary Wharf bankers who frequent this place. I opted for a medium Burrito, packed more tightly than a king-size Rizla during the Notting Hill Carnival.

There is something Nando-esque about Tortilla, from the informal way the menu is written - extolling the virtues of its organic rice and corn-fed chicken - to the self-service soft-drink machine. A word of warning about the ice machine: it is one of those ones designed to fill your cup, leaving less room to add drink. After serendipitously doing it the opposite way - filling up my cup with drink first - I then tentatively pushed the button for a few cubes and was left feeling like a fruit-machine jackpot winner as ice just kept flooding out.

Eventually I burrowed myself out of the ice-mountain and sat down at a clean table. After wrestling with the Cadbury’s Creme Egg quandary of How Do You Eat Yours, I went for an allied assault of knife and fork, backed up with support from both hands. The food tasted fresh, even at 8pm. My steak was tender, the peppers suitably spicy. The added bonus of Tortilla is that it’s licensed with a number of Latin beers and margaritas, which will help to obviate the less than Mexican backdrop (Canary Wharf station).

A place where you can get stuffed for less than a fiver on fresh food is hard to find in London, but Tortilla seems to be providing just that. A thumbs (drenched in salsa) up from me.
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