Even if you’ve had a Mexican torta before, it’s not likely you’ve had one quite like those at Cumbe in Brunswick, featuring tortilla chips two ways and your choice of chicken schnitty or slow-cooked pork.
Before the arrival of Frankie’s Tortas and Tacos in the inner north, the vast majority of Melburnians hadn’t heard of – let alone tried – a torta, the Mexican-style sandwich. But now there’s another venue dedicated to the creation: Brunswick newcomer Cumbe.
Cumbe’s specialty is the torta de chilaquiles, a Mexico City street-food staple whose namesake ingredient is corn tortilla chips simmered in red or green salsa, usually served at breakfast. It’s encased in crusty white rolls with your protein of choice and a plethora of other fillings.
For this instalment of Sandwich Watch – a column dedicated to the Melbourne sangers you need to know about – two Good Food writers made two undercover visits to the new sanger shop. Here’s their verdict.
The bread
“Do you do banh mi?” a passer-by asks at the counter, confusing my coriander-crowned tiger roll as one. No, they don’t, but I can see their confusion (Cumbe gets its rolls from nearby Vietnamese bakery Dat Thanh). On that dine-in visit, my roll is crackly crusted but so flimsy and heavily filled it buckles as I pick it up. It’s a delicious mess that requires moustache wipes between every bite. Another time, when I get it to go, toppings are less plentiful and the roll is smooshed into more of a wrap in the packaging process
I dined in on both visits and sliced the hefty roll in half before attacking it. Laden with often gloopy fillings, the bread miraculously managed to maintain structural integrity until the last amalgamated bite. Its interior felt fluffier than some banh mi – perhaps due to the (deliberate) sog factor of the chilaquiles layer.
The pork
TT: When its aroma hits you as soon as you walk in, why would you order anything else? The cochinita pibil, a Yucatan dish of slow-roasted pork shoulder and neck, is cooked for 17 hours until melt-in-your-mouth tender. Its deeply spiced marinade imparts an earthy, peppery flavour. And the amount I get in a $16 torta is outrageously good value. Particularly for the couple next to me, who have gone half-half for a slightly less substantial lunch.
AS: The plentiful pulled pork was tender and juicy, stained with the telltale red of achiote and with orange juice lending sweetness (speaking of juice, try a bottled mango or guava Boing). Traditional xnipek, purple-stained pickled red onion, helped cut through the richness of the meat. My Mexican partner prides himself on his cochinita pibil, and Cumbe’s take scored a tick from him, too.
The chicken schnitty
AS: The milanesa (aka schnitzel) is sliced into strips for eating ease; helpful when it’s already a grande mouthful to contend with. The underside of the chicken’s coating was inevitably slightly soggy, but these textures are part of the sandwich’s charms. On my visit the chilaquiles were sodden in a salsa verde (green), slightly milder than the pork’s salsa roja (red), but optional sliced fresh jalapeno added bite (note: the kitchen informs me the chilaquiles’ salsa varies depending on green-tomato availability). The layer of beans was more discernible, whereas it tended to blend into the pork.
TT: This is listed as item “01” on the menu, but it’s got nothing on the aforementioned pork. In my schnitty torta, there are only a few slices of crumbed, deep-fried chicken breast. They’re a little sodden and under-seasoned individually, but with everything else going on in the sandwich, you can let them blend into the background.
Extra touches
AS: The raw white onion with the chicken versus the pickled red onion with the pork were thoughtful touches. Fair warning: my pork torta was stuffed with a fistful of coriander, but otherwise the ratios were spot-on. The staff were rightly proud of the house-made sauce in squeeze bottles on the tables – a mild, fruity mix of fermented red tomatoes, spices, mango and Mexican beer that provided a welcome exclamation point when all the fillings started to meld.
TT: More is more in these tortas, so maximum enjoyment comes with leaning into the excess. “Do you want it spicy?” my server asks. Definitely. That house-made hot sauce dials up the heat and acid. Chilaquiles bring the sauciness (but a spattering of crushed-up tortilla chips offers a contrasting crunch up top). Daubs of ricotta ripple some creaminess throughout. And extra brightness comes in the form of pickled red onion.
Would I return?
TT: For a lunchtime when I’m ravenous and ready to roll up my sleeves, I’ll definitely be back for that pork torta. And from my experience, dine-in seems to be the ticket, as opposed to takeaway, which also means more time with the extremely affable and attentive staff. I’m also keen to try one of the home-made baked goods in the pie warmer, including that excellent pork in pie form, or even an al pastor-style sausage roll.
AS: Crunchy-mushy chilaquiles are an acquired texture, but if you embrace the messiness you’ll be rewarded with a flavour-packed, textural adventure – no trendy birria dipping broth necessary. Definitely eat in if you can. So far, the pork has the edge, but I’ll be back to compare the huevo, with fried eggs, when I’m hungover next, chased with an espresso-spiked horchata (spiced rice milk).
How do I get one?
Chilaquiles tortas ($16) or bowls ($15) are available at Cumbe, 551 Sydney Road, Brunswick, breakfast and lunch daily.
This is the latest instalment of Sandwich Watch, a column dedicated to the Melbourne sandwiches you need to know about.
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