Spike’s Cake Shop, 660 Fairplex Drive (at Holt), Pomona; open daily
I had never noticed Spike’s, which turns out to be within a minimall I pass all the time, and had I seen it I wouldn’t have thought to go in. But the chef and co-owner of Pappas Artisanal Sandwiches in La Verne advised me that he gets his rolls from Spike’s and that they make excellent burritos there. I made a point of going.
The sign, hard to see due to foliage, appears to be repurposed from a Spike’s Teriyaki. As one Spike’s observer put it, the name might sound inauthentic, but “you don’t get more authentic than saving some coin and using the previous sign.” Point made. Neon signs at the entry tout tacos, burritos, bionicos, licuados, tamales, champurrados and “sanwiches.” No hours are posted, but they seem to be open seven days, and well into the evening.
The doors are perpetually open, with plastic hanging strips to keep out flies. The interior is confusing on a first visit, not to mention subsequent visits: Your clockwise view is of refrigerated cases with pan dulce and bottled beverages; a small open kitchen with a grill and a stove with a couple of pots; a line at a counter to order; and a cake counter. I wondered if I had stepped into the wrong place.
If you want pan dulce, then you take a tray and tongs at the pickup counter. You probably won’t get a tray liner. Otherwise, you get a beverage and get in line, even though virtually everyone in front of you will have a tray of bakery items, and at the register, where there is no menu posted, you’ll attempt to order a torta or a burrito, the ease of which will depend on your facility with Spanish or the employee’s facility with English. You’ll pay and get a receipt, you’ll listen for your number to be called out in Spanish, and probably won’t hear it.
But once you get your burrito ($5.50), you’ll find it long and slim, wrapped in a springy, light and fresh tortilla. A carne asada burrito will contain a kind of stew with rice, beans and bits of meat, a style closer to what I believe is the Mexican version of a burrito than I’ve ever had. An al pastor burrito was meatier. Both were surprising and intensely satisfying, among the best I’ve had, although fans of Chipotle-like stuffed burritos may find them baffling.
The second time, I also got a puffy sweetbread (50 cents). I liked it but have very little experience with pan dulce. A Pomonan whose office has been sampling panaderias hadn’t heard of Spike’s either but, after a couple of visits, was impressed enough to rate it second best in town after Panaderia La Mexicana. And the tri-color cookies at Spike’s were rated No. 1.
Seating consists of a few small uncomfortable tables with swivel seats and a counter for four by the door, which is where I’ve sat. There’s usually a few carts with stacked trays of pan dulce, perhaps cooling, out on the floor as well.
Spike’s is one of the more visually confusing places I’ve eaten, up there with the chaotic Porto’s in Glendale. For the adventurous, the food is good enough to be worth the hassle. You’ll probably want to take it to go, though.