Review: Taco Bell And Salt & Straw's Choco Taco Riff Is Even Better Than The Original

Three years. That was the interminable span of time the world went without the Choco Taco. It's difficult to talk about, I know. Thankfully, even though Klondike let an entire generation down by discontinuing the ice-creamed, waffle-shelled, chocolate-capped mock Mexican fare in 2022, artisanal ice cream makers Salt & Straw swooped in to save us all. In 2025, the Tacolate was introduced.

Although not a carbon copy of the Choco Taco, the Tacolate kept all the same structural hallmarks while using cinnamon-ancho chili ice cream and adding puffed quinoa to the hard chocolate top. What's more, Salt & Straw collaborated with Taco Bell on this homage, in order to bring this creation to the masses via Taco Bells nationwide. That in-store availability at the fast-food chain may have only been for a limited time (the Tacolate can still be bought online and at Salt & Straw locations), but a year later the collab is back on. This time, in the form of the Churro Ice Cream Taco.

Will it be as big a hit this go-round, or closer to a sophomore slump for the team-up? Considering the Tacolate was such a resounding success as a spin on the beloved Choco Taco, there's no apparent reason the Churro Ice Cream Taco should fail. I mean, why would adding churro to anything make it less appealing? So, does the actual eat live up to the expectation?

I headed over to my closest Taco Bell in Brooklyn to pick up the brand spankin' new Churro Ice Cream Taco. At first, the staff was confused by the order, looking for an actual taco thing after I punched it in at the kiosk. They had probably just received the stock and didn't even realize it was there. To be fair, it's also one of the sleepier Taco Bells you'll find, since it's right smack in the middle of an extremely dense Mexican neighborhood, with a panoply of non-fast-food taco options around. I don't think this item was going to be selling out in minutes at this location like it might elsewhere.

Anyway, I judged the frozen treat on a few factors. Overall taste, obviously, but also the prominence of each individual flavor element. Texture was just as important as taste here, since the construction of a chocolate taco, with its counterbalancing components of soft ice cream, waffle cone bark, and puffed, hardened chocolate is intended to give you a playfully patchwork bite. Finally, and as a result of the above mentioned judging parameters, the nostalgia vibes and coziness feels were duly assessed — intangible though they may be.

Maybe it's because I'm a product of the 1990s, but the first bite felt incredibly retro, like I was standing there soaked in sprinkler water, butt-crack peeking out of my swim shorts, and sunburn settling in on my nape. All these decades later, however, something new occurred to me: The Choco Taco-style of delivery might actually be superior to the conventional ice cream cone. It's almost like someone took just the nub of a burrito (the best part), refined it, and sold that. All the scrumptious elements are enjoyed simultaneously. It's almost revolutionary.

Taste-wise, the Churro Ice Cream Taco is well-calibrated. The churro element pops. Even my six-year-old declared that it tasted like churro after trying it, unsolicited and having no notion it was supposed to. It really, impressively nails that particular kind of churro cinnamon (and will certainly assuage forlorn Sam's Club shoppers who dearly miss that food court churro). The waffle is par for the course, delivering the kind of cookie-esque bite you can't wait to get to with a cone. The chocolate cap, although seeming little more than your typical, mass-manufactured frozen hard chocolate, subtracts nothing from the palate-pleasing.

Regarding texture, however, it doesn't score quite as high. The puffed quinoa rimming the hard chocolate sort of disappears, or at least never comes to the fore. (A real-deal Nestle Crunch-style pop would really put things over the top). And the waffle part can get a bit elastic, even rubbery, failing to contrast the ice cream effectively.

All in all, the Churro Ice Cream Taco is an estimable effort on the part of Salt & Straw. The artisanal level of care and calculation really comes through, and any flaws when it comes to texture is probably due to the makeup of the treat, rather than any shortcoming on the maker's part.

Unless you're compelled to be nitpicky like I am, either due to vocation or plain old personality, this is a frozen treat you'll probably want to return to after initial indulgence. I know it was for my young son, who asked if we could, quote, "go back to Taco Bell, today, now," for another one.

Fair to say this should be another jonrón for Portland babies Salt & Straw, as well as a big seller for Taco Bell. It's yummy, youth-ifying, and worthy of yesteryear. It's probably best you run out and grab one while you can, before you have to pay for shipping and handling. Or grab 17 and just toss them in the freezer. Who needs room for frozen vegetable medley anyway?

Released on September 1st, 2026, The Salt & Straw Churro Ice Cream Taco will, like its predecessor, only be available for a limited time at Taco Bell (and a companion Salt & Straw Choco-Waffle Chiller is sticking around until supplies last, albeit exclusively at Live Más Café locations). Once the Churro Ice Cream Taco exits the Taco Bell menu, it will be available online and in-store through Salt & Straw, just like the Tacolate.

As far as the price, the Churro Ice Cream Taco was listed as $3.99 on various outlets and publications. However, it cost $4.99 at the Taco Bell I went to in New York City — so pricing may vary depending on where you live, though I can't imagine it will climb higher than the fiver I dropped. Can't say the same for a black market Churro Ice Cream Taco, in case you prefer to get yours in a manila envelope from a murky individual at a parking garage. But that's on you.