A free Mini for a day is very good.

The Wife — courtesy her entry in a public transportation agency’s contest — ended up with a free Zipcar for a day. And as luck would have it, she invited me to come along. For the car, she picked a Mini and left the destination(s) to me.

A silver Mini named “McNorton” waited at a parking garage on Geary St. in San Francisco. We took BART in, hiked a few blocks to the parking garage, and gained entry with a magic wave of a ZipCar card. Pretty unique and convenient system. A few blocks down the road and my wife, decidedly not the “car nut,” was thoroughly enjoying a sporting drive to the Exploratorium, where the kid bailed and we officially began “having a day.” By now my wife had announced a few times that the “wanted this car.”

The car was entertaining on many levels — there’s always switches to play with in unfamiliar cars — but it was the computer’s calculation of average fuel consumption that held our attention at first. Up and down the hills of the city it bounced around the teens, but once we were on the highway to San Mateo, it quickly rose to the rather amazing 30 to 32 mpg range. Did I mention that my wife said she wanted her own Mini?

After a nice visit with my sister’s family in San Mateo, we pointed the bonnet west. Destination: Half Moon Bay. The weather: incredible for January. (I’m very conflicted about enjoying the great weather at a time when we should have rain.) In Half Moon Bay, in my humble opinion, one can find some of the best fish and chips around at the Half Moon Bay Brewing Co. So it was fish and chips for me, mini Kobe burgers for Karen, and an IPA shared between us. A great lunch with a great view on the bay. A quick drive back up the coast brought us back to reality, but it was a great “mini-vacation.”

During my meal I imagined the diners around me include a girlfriend and boyfriend from one of the local colleges, a mother and father and their children joined by grandma and grandpa, older couples enjoying dinner out and a mother treating her college-aged daughter and her friends. A handful of customers must be regulars as customers greet them by name; always a good sign. Another good sign: smiles a every table.

This smallish restaurant greets diners with happy colors while the friendly staff swiftly brings chips and salsa to the table and take drink orders. Music reminiscent of the streets of Mexico reinforces the feeling without bring obtrusive. Margaritas in nearly gallon-size glasses, apparently a big draw for Rita’s, grace many of the tables. Others call to mind Corona commercials, with galvanized buckets filled with ice and half a dozen Coronitas. Tortilla more delicate than expected arrive with a novel treatment: mild and warmer salsa in small dispensers with bowls that allow you to sample, choose, then use only the salsa you want.

Without calling myself a connoisseur, I have an idea of what makes good Mexican food. And Rita’s makes good Mexican food. The huge menu will satisfy the cravings of nearly anyone, with the only blatant American influence being the inclusion of the omnipresent chimichanga. I chose Burrito Especial, encouraged to find a place offering two smaller all-meat burritos — one chili colorado and the second chili verdé — instead of one giant version of tortilla-wrapped goodness. By virtue of these burritos being home to only meat, they are accompanied by beans and rice.

I finished it all. It was that good. The burrito chili verdé is the spicier of the two, but just enough to wake the taste buds. The burrito chili colorado presents a more mellow flavor that sneaks up with a bit of heat. However, this dish is one probably better — an easily — shared.

Around my office a few of us recently agreed that the better Mexican restaurants are in Southern California and that it’s hard to find a solid Mexican meal in or around San Francisco. Rita’s offers the irony that I found one of the better Mexican places almost at the northern edge of the state.

Mexican food lovers…there’s hope! Unfortunately it’s roughly 275 north of my house.