Bread of Death


Holy Mother. I have died and gone to heaven, and heaven is in Mexico.

I didn’t actually go to Mexico. That would have been foolish. My aim at the moment is to discover great places on my own doorstep, so travelling thousands of miles away would probably defeat its object. I am also very poor.

I’m actually talking about this nifty little Mexican bar/restaurant on the end of Kent Terrace. Callum and I went there after our trip to the theatre, which you can read about here. I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone by trying two new places in a night. It was also really cold outside, and it was the first place we came across that served food on our way back to the bus stop.

Interior of the bar

The name of the restaurant is Pan de Muerto. At the time, I used my brilliantly shocking foreign language skills to determine that this definitely translated to mean ‘bread of death’. After since perusing their website, I’ve come to learn that what it actually means is ‘bread of the dead’. Slightly less ridiculous, but I still like my version better.

The waiter sat us down at a nice table in the corner by the window, where I jumped straight into the cocktail menu. I’ve been hankering after a nice little cocktail for a while now, and there was a surprising amount to choose from.

I know I should have gone down the margarita road, it being a Mexican restaurant and all, but something inside of me (probably not my liver) screamed for the Blueberry Mule. I can’t remember exactly what was in it (I was too busy concentrating on pouring it down my throat) but I think it was a mixture of crushed blueberries, berri acai, and sweet, delicious gin. Get one.

Callum went for the manlier, more traditional Sol.

Next it was time for the food. Here is the menu, for those interested. Callum and I decided to share the Ofrenda Platter. Now, it’s important to say I’ve been dieting recently, so any combination of carbs, meat and cheese is going to look like sex on a plate to me. However, even Callum agreed that this stuff was pretty awesome. A big, juicy plate arrived brimming with Quesadillas, Albondigas (meatballs in sauce), Jalapenos Rellenos (Jalapenos wrapped in cheese and breadcrumbs), Rollitos de Camaron (shrimp rolls- my fave) with a hearty dollop of quacamole and chips to go with it. It was a truly emotional experience.

Knee-weakening sharing platter.

The only thing I didn’t understand is why there was three of everything. (We’d already inhaled a meatball each before I had the time to snap this photo.) Perhaps my boy and I are simply pigs, and the platter was actually meant for three people instead of two. I think it’s more likely to be a way of testing a couple’s sharing skills. I’m pretty sure Cal and I passed the test; I even cut the last meatball in half.

Right, so, we’ve established that the food was delicious. After we’d finished eating, we noticed a sign that had been sitting directly opposite us for the entire evening, but which we had both (until now) failed to notice.

Here it is…

Five dollars, you say?

The night very quickly turned from an enriching, cultural theatre experience, to, well, this.

Eventually we paid the bill and headed home. I played the Tequila song full-blast once, and then promptly fell asleep. What an absolute stunner of an evening.

For bookings, menus, and general info, Pan De Muerto’s website can be found here.

Happiness comes in a shot glass.


About Emma

Having lived and loved in the chaotic city of London for the past five years, I've recently relocated to Wellington. It feels small. I've been here a few months already, but I feel like I haven't really given it enough effort. I've been to a few cool places and met some great people, but it's time to actually discover this place. The challenge I've set myself is to discover one new thing about the city each week. Whether it's a bar, restaurant, gallery, store, or anything else, I'm on the hunt for everything this pretty little city has to offer. Ideas and new suggestions are of course welcome (and begged for) along the way.

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