Mexico #1: pambazo

A pambazo is a thing where your friend of a friend, after drinks, after tiny street tacos (al pastor, cabeza, chorizo, chorizo, chorizo, so small the taco man has to pinch them to gather up the meat), after more drinks, after ranchero/banda karaoke, drives you up, up into the outskirts of the DF, up past stand after brightly-lit taco and torta and quesadilla stand – so bright, each one a cheery, county-fair white, small clapboard food beacons guiding you in the dark – until you reach one nestled in the corner of a quiet intersection, so high you can see the silent sweep of the city below you, so high there is a possibility the car crashed en route and you’ve in fact died and gone to Mexican food heaven. A pambazo is a thing where your friend asks the owners (an older woman, a younger woman, a middle-aged man) if they have pambazos, and they shake their heads and sigh, perdón, they’re out of bread, and you and your friend and your boyfriend all shake your heads too because boy that is a fucking lástima if I ever heard it, but then the young woman goes and rummages around and finds a surprise sleeve of bread and it’s all back on. They ask you if you want tradicional, your Mexican friend nods. So you also nod.

 A pambazo is, technically:

1-1 large-ish hamburger-type bun

2-Chili oil

3-Generous helping of chorizo and potato, bien picados, fried together

4-Queso fresco

5-Liquefied meat fat

6-Lettuce?? (doubtful)

7-Possibly more meat

A pambazo is ingredients 3-7 piled onto ingredient 1, then doused in 2, then fried on a flattop, then passed to you on a styrofoam plate, then devoured as you ponder why more things in the world aren’t drowned in chili oil and then fried. Or stuffed with potatoes. It is, in a no-nonsense kind of way, all savory, all spice. It is very good. A pambazo is also when your friend orders a horchata, and you and your boyfriend look longingly at the horchata, and the man sees the longing, and hands you a literal liter of horchata in response. And it’s GOOD, creamy in a way the horchata in Guatemala never seems to be, tasting very specifically of vanilla, of cinnamon. A pambazo is when you try to pay for this horchata and the owners refuse. You didn’t know there were people in the world who would give you a liter of horchata for free just because you looked thirsty; it is probable that these people only live in Mexico (later experiences with extreme Mexican hospitality/friendliness/kindness confirm this). A pambazo is about 20 pesos. A pambazo is a red-tinted, meaty wonder; a pambazo is the first line in a culinary love letter from Mexico, to you.