Late last year, the critics behind Michelin’s food and travel guides published a list of what they deemed to be , including one in Denver.
Chef Jose Avila has served the Pambazo de Carnitas — the bread slathered and marinated in a red guajillo chili sauce — for six years, first from his food truck and since 2021 at his flagship Denver restaurant, La Diabla Pozole y Mezcal.
“This sandwich is excellent, the exterior lightly crispy, with the distinct toasty flavor of the chile, and the carnitas inside are tender, juicy and flavorful, enhanced by savory brown bits,” Michelin’s anonymous inspector wrote. “It’s flavorful, displays good technique and uses quality ingredients.”
Avila, who found out about the Michelin honor through Instagram, is using the opportunity to shed light on pambazos and their humble origins.
“‘Pambazo’ doesn’t get close to anything that you could probably relate it to,” Avila said from his kitchen, having just prepared the ‘campechano’ version on the menu, filled not with carnitas but with chorizo and cecina, a thinly sliced cured beef.
“But when someone orders it,” he continued, pretending to be a hungry customer, his eyes darting to the sandwich he had just finished plating with small baked potatoes and a cheese-stuffed jalapeno. “‘What is that? I want one of those.’”
Structurally, the pambazo is similar to a torta, but the former’s origins are more closely tied to Mexico City, its prominent food vendors and Mexican Independence Day celebrations, Avila said.
“You can see these stands with all these mountains of bread already being marinated,” Avila said. The marinated bread is fried, then piled with meat, cheese, lettuce, beans and other toppings.
The name “pambazo” comes from ‘pan-baxo,’ the roots of which refer to lower-quality bread, according to Mexican anthropologist Virginia García Acosta, who origins.
Unlike the shorter and wider traditional pambazos, Avila’s are narrower and 13 inches long — large enough to call an entree. Because he couldn’t find the specific roll he wanted, his team started baking its own.
At La Diabla, 2233 Larimer St., the bread is fried in pork fat and spends about five minutes on the griddle with the other elements of the sandwich, including the meat and onions. Once off the heat, Avila spreads salsa verde and salsa negra on the top bread and slices one whole avocado to layer on top of the meat.
The sandwich is listed online at $18. For $3 extra, Avila envelops the entire thing in a cheese crust, or ‘costra.’ The Michelin list shows the sandwich paired with a beef marrow bone, which is another addition.
Avila credited his mother, Angelina Avila, with giving him the idea to first sell pambazos at his food truck, X’Tabai Yucateco.
“Itap been a sleeper ever since,” he said. Then he raised his eyebrows and looked out toward the dining room. He sold 500 pambazos a week at La Diabla before the recommendation by Michelin. Now it’s double that, he said.
