
I’m on a perpetual hunt for good pozole. Pozole is a Mexican stew made with hominy (the same corn used to make grits, but whole) and a slow-braised meat, generally pork. It is brothier than, say, an American-style beef stew. The ‘caldo’ is seasoned with chilies, onions, garlic, and spices. Rojo is made with red chilies, and Verde with green chilies. From there, it’s a choose-your-own-adventure of toppings, from shredded cabbage, thinly sliced radishes, pickled onions, cilantro, avocado, and lime wedges. It is filling, comforting, will clear out sinuses, and takes around 20 hours to prepare properly. So, it isn’t something I make at home. Which is why I jumped at the chance to visit La Diabla Pozole y Mezcal when I was in Denver for a recent work trip.
It was a rough trip. My Airbnb had a gas leak, so I had to abandon ship late at night and move to a hotel. The hotel had a fire alarm go off at 2 am, which is no way to wake up in the witching hours. It was a false alarm, but the night was shot. I wrapped up my meetings the next day with no sleep and minimal food, and was bleary-eyed looking for a way to salvage the day. La Diabala was right by my hotel. I stumbled in feeling half alive and left feeling nourished and human again.
I sat at the bar, like I always do when I’m solo traveling. Antique and mirrored, just my kind of place. Perfect for people-watching in the reflection, with a tandem sense of layered history. A winged angel slaying a devil is the centerpiece of the back bar, with various lesser MezoAmerican diablitas (little devils) peeking out throughout the restaurant. Appropriately so, given the name.

Chef-Owner Jose Avila set out to create a pozoleria like the ones he grew up with in Mexico City. Taking his cue from the Mexican flag, La Diabala offers red, green, blanco, or white pozoles along with a Negro and a vegan pozole. The real star ingredient is the corn, which is used liberally throughout the entire menu. According to the website, “Chef purchases whole dried corn from Masienda, a company that specializes in importing heirloom grains and beans from Mexico.” He then takes it and nixtamalizes the corn in-house for pozoles and grinds it for his tortillas. Again from the website, “The nixtamalization process enhances the corn’s nutritional value and flavor, but very few restaurants do it themselves because it’s a time-consuming undertaking.” This is an understatement. I want to impress on you what a task this is. It involves soaking and cooking dried corn in an alkaline solution to remove the hull, making the corn soft and pliable. It takes 8-12 hours of soaking, followed by hulling, and additional time for grinding, if you are making tortillas or tamales. But Chef Jose is a traditionalist.

The pozoles stay on the menu, but everything else, the “guisados” or home-style dishes, rotate in and out based on season and the Chef’s whim. I think it is better that way. I ordered the Esquites con Tuetano to start. Street corn, off the cob, served in a corn husk with cotija cheese, lime, and Morita chile mayo. Pretty standard stuff, right? Nope. The ‘tuetano’ is a sizzling piece of roasted bone marrow. Like a gelatinous beef butter, the bone marrow gets scooped clear of the bone and devoured with the corn. I know that combination of words might make some people skittish, but trust me, it all belongs together. The dish is a contrast of fresh, sweet, and vegetal flavors with fatty, salty, and meaty ones. If you’re feeling brave, you can do a shot of mezcal luge-style down the bone once it is scraped clean for a savory self-serve cocktail.
I’ve had plenty of Pozole Rojo and Verde, so I had to step out of my own box and try the La Diabla Pozole Blanco. The chilies that color the red and green pozoles are absent, but what isn’t absent is flavor. The white pozole was thicker, studded with braised pork, and topped with tomatoes and sliced avocado. It came with two house-made tostadas for scooping or crumbling, based on preference. It reminded me of Mexican beans if whole kernel hominy were substituted for the beans.

Finally, I paired everything with a Mezcal flight. Mezcal is typically my spirit of choice. I love sipping on a good reposado, and I love a joven or blanco in a cocktail or margarita. So I was excited to try three new-to-me mezcals. I sipped on the Joven Espina Negra Jabali, Joven Nahual Los Nahuales, and Joven Por Lo Bueno Mezcal Tobala. All three are made with different types of agave Espadin, and tasting them back to back really showcased the variety. The best part of the pairing was the pinch plate that came along with it. House-made salts, orange, tomatillos, and even chapulinas were accoutrements. They added nuance to the pairings. The bartender was lovely about explaining the spirits and even left the bottles so I would know what I was sipping on. I was laughing inside because that would never happen in the Beehive State.
The only drawback to dining solo at La Diabla Pozole y Mezcal was that I couldn’t taste whatever my dining companion ordered as well.
When you go: La Diabla Pozole y Mezcal
2233 Larimer Street Denver, CO 80205
ladiabladenver.com
Love authentic Mexican food? Check out La Cevicheria in Salt Lake City. Visiting Oregon? Check out Eating on the Road articles for Bowpicker in Astoria and Kachka in Portland.
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