I love Tony Hawk. He seems like one of the few dudes to make it BIG and still be grounded in reality—humble and kind. I’ve met him twice, once as a child at a skate demo and South Carolina, and once more as a teen while at LAX. He was very kind to me both times and encouraged me to always stay on my skateboard. I get it, he probably got enough from this partnership for a new mega ramp, but a limited time culinary event is hilarious. It feels like a games marketing stunt from a bygone era which is fitting because what this event is marketing is a remake of two of the best games of the early 2000s (and of all time, really).
I used the Chipotle app to place a to-go order from the Chipotle on Ponce. Tony Hawk’s face was next to the burrito, as was the calorie count. 1210 calories…great. I grabbed my mask and hopped in my car. Online orders from Chipotle never take all that long (yes, I go to Chipotle on occasion when I am just tired and want an easy and filling and not-so-bad-for-me meal, like, my usual order maybe breaks like 600-or-so calories). So, off I went!
Getting the burrito was easy and safe. The other folks that were grabbing food all had their masks on which, honestly, has been a rare sight since so many Americans are cruel, selfish assholes who do not believe in COVID or see service workers as human beings. The bag was warm, Tony Hawk’s burrito was in it after all. Wrapped in tin foil, it called out for me to bite into it. But I had to wait. The drive home was easy. It was time—time for Tony Hawk’s burrito to kickflip into my mouth.
The tinfoil tore apart in my hands as I pulled wantingly at it. Tony Hawk’s burrito unfurled itself and was revealed before my very eyes. It radiated warmth and smelled like chicken and salsa. It was time for the first bite and, dear reader, bite it I did. My teeth sunk into a warm tortilla and the contents rolled within half cabbed across my tastebuds. And the flavor, oh the flavor, it ollied onto a kinked rail and grinded from my tastebuds to my brain. My brain was then no complied with a torrent of, well, not much flavor. It is Chipotle after all. And the Tony Hawk Burrito is just a very generic burrito order: chicken, brown rice, black beans, hot (by who’s standard?) salsa, cheese, and guacamole. It was fine. for eleven dollars it filled me up, I guess. It was definitely a Chipotle burrito that I ate and that is all I really have to say about it.
Honestly, a food-based tie-in marketing campaign for a Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater game should’ve just leaned into the over-the-top (and often gross) nature of early 2000s skateboarding. It should’ve just been some burger monstrosity from Carl’s Jr. called, like, “The 900” for its calorie-count and its contents. I don’t know how Tony Hawk likes his burgers though. Someone should ask him.
I am very excited for the Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 1+2 Remake. These games mean so much to me, as does skateboarding, and I hope they get it right. If so, I’ll assuredly lose hundreds of hours to combo and score-chasing this fall. I do not know why I am adding this last paragraph to my Tony Hawk’s Burrito review. His burrito was rather bland but the games—even at their worst—usually aren’t.