A few times a week, the Taco Boys team drive up flour tortillas from Sonora, Mexico, including a 14-inch behemoth destined for burritos. Though this year-old Roosevelt Row taqueria’s proprietors Juan Cornejo and Juan Cornejo Jr. are best known for carne asada, their dripping cabeza makes for an equal or better burrito filling. For it, beef cheeks get a long, long stew, soaking up the flavor of Anaheim chiles, allium, and more, becoming rich and melting with time. 

When measuring a burrito, tortilla quality sets the ceiling — and Tacos Chiwas makes some of the most celebrated flour tortillas in town. Nadia Holguin and Armando Hernandez griddle discs made from organic white flour. The result: pliant flour tortillas of uncommon fragrance and unshy chew. Burritos here come with nothing but meat and beans (except for the carne asada and pollo, which also come with lettuce). A juicy, flavorful picadillo makes a hearty inside as good as its wrapping. 

On the west side, Ta’Carbon crafts a classic Sonoran-style carne asada burrito. The smoke of a charcoal grill perfumes the restaurant, getting the experience of the burrito going before sight, with the very first inhalation of mesquite-rich fumes. A robust smoke saturates the steak, sizzled on the grill and chopped to bits at a brisk clip, as the flow of customers tends to keep steady and strong. True to Sonoran style, the burrito is minimal, little distracting from its grilled steak.

This restaurant with three locations is perennially in the conversation for best al pastor in the metro area. When ordered in a burrito, fine shreds of marinated pork print their shapes on their tight-but-soft flour tortilla. The achiote spicing them goes nicely with a deeply smoky red salsa, one of two that comes on the side. Burros pack a whole lot of meat and a slicking of creamy beans. They come with an option to add onions and cilantro. 

Doug Robson is yet another burrito minimalist, choosing to center the meat filling without any distraction. His barbacoa begins with four beef cuts — chuck, rib tips, cachete, and suadero — all seasoned, wrapped in a banana leaf, and slow-cooked for five hours. The beef blend and method yield an intense barbacoa adorned by nothing but its flour tortilla robe. Still, a red salsa with sesame seeds and a hard chile de arbol heat makes a welcome addition. 

Burros at South Phoenix stalwart Carolina’s come on newly made flour tortillas — assembled at dough stations and griddles by a small army of diligent staff behind the cashiers. These tortillas are still warm from being made. They are soft yet chewy and carry the fragrance of flour. Going the burro route, many paths can be traveled. To revel in the full satisfaction of a tortilla just a few minutes old, simple refried beans and cheese are a sure way to go. 

The move at Charlotte Hansen’s beloved neighborhood nook, open since 1977, is to order burros enchilada style. This means so smothered in enchilada sauce that they must be eaten with a fork. Unlike so many great Phoenix burros, this favorite leans maximal. The rich enchilada sauce has a fiery-but-cool heat that dovetails with the heat of the red chile beef encased in the flour tortilla, smoldering away. Melted yellow cheese and lettuce round out the massive package. 

Fish in burritos is underrated, a fact proven by one swordfish creation at the Phoenix location of Chula Seafood, kitchen led by Kyle Kent. This burrito features grilled swordfish harpooned from the water from the Chula Seafood boat, which fishes off the coast of San Diego. It is utterly loaded with guacamole, queso, fries, avocado, and more, the lean swordfish chunks holding their own among all that soft, melting, fatty goodness. Once a special, this burrito is now rolled daily.