I am a hearty soup, a Mexican delight, But also a boy band, shining ever so bright. What am I, known for both flavor and fame?

Born from fire, pale and gray, I linger when the flames decay. Yet legends tell of phoenixes reborn, emerging from my dusty form.

I'm often found in a pack, but I'm not a wolf. I have a sticky situation, but no real strife. I leave my mark wherever I land, a colorful, adhesive life.

I AM GIVEN AS GIFT OR IN JEST. WHEN AT THE STORE, AROUND ME PEOPLE QUEST. YOU MAY NEED ME TO GAIN A DATE, A DRINK, A JOB. MAYBE EVEN TO LIVE NEAR A MAN NAMED BOB. WITH ME MANY THINGS CAN BE PURCHASED. WITHOUT ME PEOPLE MAY THINK YOU DONT EXIST.

Steps in a satchel? Escalator in some luggage?