On the northwest side of a nondescript corner in Allapattah, there is a sandwich shop with exactly zero signage. Set back 200 feet from the road and buffered from traffic by a small asphalt field, the place looks like a postapocalyptic bunker. It's easy to drive past, and even if you do see it, you wouldn't assume delicious lunch foods are hawked from this spot. Simple, uncomplicated pan con lechón doesn't fit the profile. Nevertheless, Papo Llega y Pon serves one king-hell $5 pork sandwich. Drippingly delicious and spicy cleaver-chopped roast pig is piled onto soft white bread and then finished with onion, mayo, or piquant sauce. It's huge. But you came here to eat, right? So double-fist it, go around the corner, and enter the little dining dungeon. It's about the size of a holding cell; there are iron bars on the windows and nothing but a single exit. So a tip: Don't let any of your fellow sandwich eaters get behind you. These people are very hungry. Then again, so are you.