Mexico City Pizzeria Goes Viral for "Worst Pizza" Award

Pablo Irurita threw a party in March to celebrate his restaurant earning an award for the "worst pizza" in Mexico City, complete with a fake Michelin Guide plaque and Domino's delivery served to confused guests.

The owner of Cavatappi Pizza, located just south of the popular Condesa neighborhood, has built a devoted following since 2022 by doing the opposite of typical food marketing. Instead of drool-worthy food photos, he posts videos responding to one-star reviews, sings songs for customers who can't remember his address, and lampoons the restaurant industry.

His viral "worst pizza" video listed everything his restaurant doesn't do: no edible gold, no dry ice gimmicks, no Instagram tricks. Just simple, well-made pizza with cheese that tastes like cheese. The post earned likes from Mexican celebrities including Laura Esquivel, bestselling author of "Like Water for Chocolate."

Not everyone got the joke at first. Irurita's marketing friends told him he was doing everything wrong, and even his own cousin posted congratulatory messages thinking Pablo had won a real Michelin star. One guest admitted he invited friends to celebrate before realizing the plaque reading "Worst Pizza 2025" was satirical.

But customers who understand the humor keep coming back. Australian diner Yvette McPherson says it works in Mexico because people have a great sense of humor, while regular Mexican customer Yosh Rivas appreciates the stylish space and funny award.

The fake Michelin plaque now hangs at the restaurant's entrance, designed to look authentic with the iconic star and Michelin Man logo. Irurita says if the real Michelin Guide sued him, it would be the best publicity ever. "If they're reading this, I'm right here," he challenged.

Sunny's Take

Before the pandemic pushed him into restaurants, Irurita was a music promoter who used online controversy to create buzz around concerts. He brought that same playful spirit to his pizzeria, proving that authenticity and humor can cut through the noise of social media better than any perfectly filtered food photo.

When negative commenters say they'll never visit, he responds with "great, please don't come." His philosophy is simple: if someone is difficult online, imagine them as a customer. The approach has worked beautifully, filling tables with people who appreciate both good pizza and good laughs.

In a world where restaurants desperately chase Michelin stars and Instagram fame, one pizzeria is thriving by celebrating imperfection and keeping things refreshingly real.