Let Me Tell You About These Birria Quesa Tacos

Alright, picture this: It’s a Wednesday, my kids have scattered Legos under the kitchen table (I’ve already stepped on three, ouch), and I suddenly crave proper comfort food. Cue: Birria Quesa Tacos. First time I made these, I nearly set off the smoke alarm—but hey, that’s how you get flavor, right? Or at least that’s what I tell myself. Honestly, ever since my cousin Rosa brought them over for a family potluck, these have become the thing I bust out when friends drop by. If you like cheesy, meaty, crisp-edged tacos dipped in the richest brothy goodness—my friend, you’re in for it! Oh, and if you hear my dog barking in the background, sorry. He’s obsessed with the smell of birria too.

Why I Keep Going Back to This Recipe

I make this dish when the whole crew needs cheering up (especially when it’s raining, or we’re all a bit grumpy from too much homework). My family goes borderline wild for these, probably because you get both savory braised beef and molten cheese—I mean, what’s not to love? Sometimes I get frustrated shredding the meat (I sort of have a bad habit of eating half of it before it goes back in the pot), but honestly, the mess is worth it. And if I’m being real, these tacos double as my late-night snack more often than I care to admit. Got leftovers? Actually, never mind, we never do.

Let’s Get Down to Ingredients

3 lbs beef chuck roast (I sometimes swap in short ribs if I want to get fancy, or whatever’s on sale. Grandma swore by chuck though, so take that as you will.)
4 dried guajillo chiles (Or toss in pasilla if you’ve got those instead. I once tried ancho—good, but not quite right.)
2 chipotle peppers in adobo (From the can. I also sneak in a splash of the sauce for extra kick.)
6 cloves garlic
1 medium onion, quartered (For some reason, yellow onions taste better to me in this, but any onion is really fine.)
2 tomatoes, roughly chopped (Roma ideally, but no need to stress if it’s not.)
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon dried oregano (Mexican or regular; let’s not be precious.)
4 cups beef broth (I’ve used chicken broth in a pinch… probably not traditional, but it works.)
Salt and pepper to taste
Corn tortillas (Flour is not the same, but I won’t tell if you don’t have the other.)
2 cups shredded Oaxaca or mozzarella cheese (I use whatever’s lurking in the cheese drawer, honestly.)
Vegetable oil, for frying

How I Cook Birria Quesa Tacos (Step by Slightly Chaotic Step)

Prep the chiles. Rip the stems off the dried chiles and shake out as many seeds as you can (don’t have to get all of them; I certainly don’t). Toast them quickly in a dry pan—you’ll smell the magic—then soak them in hot water for about 20 minutes. This is usually when my phone rings.
Make the sauce. Pop the soaked chiles, chipotle peppers, garlic, onion, tomatoes, cumin, oregano, and about a cup of broth into a blender. Blend until smooth (sometimes I do this twice because I’m paranoid about chunks). Don’t worry if it’s orange-red and thick—I wondered the first time, too.
Sear the beef. Salt and pepper your meat chunks, then brown them in a heavy pot with a glug of oil. This part is worth taking slow—you want that fond! Or, actually, sometimes I just do a quick brown if I’m in a rush… it’s still tasty.
Braise it up. Pour the sauce over the beef, add the bay leaves, and pour in enough broth to nearly cover everything. Cover, then simmer on low for about 2.5 hours. If you have an Instant Pot, pressure cook for 45 minutes (tried it, works great!). This is where I sneak a taste of broth. If it needs salt or more heat, toss in some adobo sauce.
Shred the beef. Fish the meat out (carefully, it wants to fall apart), shred it with forks (or your hands if you’re like me and impatient), then pop it back into the pot to soak up more flavor. Try not to eat half of it at this point. Not that I’ve ever done that…
Crisp the tacos. Heat a slick of oil in a skillet over medium. Dip a tortilla into the birria broth (it’s messy—embrace it), then lay it in the pan. Pile on cheese and that glorious beef. Fold and fry until crispy on both sides and the cheese is gooey. Repeat until you either run out of beef or everyone is standing over your shoulder stealing tacos off the plate.
Serve with consommé. Pour a little birria broth into small bowls for dunking. Sprinkle everything with chopped onion and cilantro if you like (my youngest picks both off, and honestly, more for me).

Notes from the Land of Trial and Error

The first time I made birria, I forgot to soak the chiles long enough and ended up chewing on chunks. Don’t be like me; a longer soak is worth it.
If your blender leaks because you overfilled it, welcome to the club. Something about hot liquid just wants to make a mess everywhere.
I actually think this tastes better the next day, but no one ever leaves any for later in my house.

Stuff I Tried (and a Fail or Two): Variations

I’ve swapped beef for lamb—so rich, almost too much for a summer night (still good, though).
One time I added a handful of epazote. Not sure it changed anything, but it *felt* authentic.
Tried to go vegetarian with jackfruit. Turns out, it’s just not the same. Didn’t pass the cousin test.

If You Don’t Have All the Fancy Tools…

I use a Dutch oven, but honestly, any heavy pot works. I once used a slow cooker (just set it low for 7 hours or until you remember it exists). Don’t stress if you only have a regular pan—it still cooks down eventually, just add water so it doesn’t stick. I’ve even used a regular blender—just be careful when blending hot stuff (learned this lesson the splashy way).

How Long Will This Last? (Not Long in My Kitchen)

You can keep leftovers for 3-4 days in the fridge—supposedly. But honestly, it rarely gets that far; I catch people stealing bites straight from the pot with tortilla chips. If you want to freeze the birria, just stash the meat and broth separately for best results.

How We Eat These at Home

I love to serve birria quesa tacos with pickled onions, extra limes, and, when I remember, a quick radish salad. My family likes dunking the tacos in the consommé like crazy—almost like a French dip, just, you know, way more flavor. Movie night and Birria Quesa Tacos has become a minor tradition for us (no one complains!).

Little Things I’ve Learned the Hard Way

Don’t try to rush the braise—trust me, I’ve done it, and the beef comes out tough as old boots.
If you skimp on the cheese, no one will forgive you. Learned that after one, let’s call it, “lean week.”
Warming the tortillas before dipping them in broth helps prevent them from tearing (my abuela was right about this one, and yes, I doubted her once. Never again.)

Your Birria Quesa Tacos (Probably) FAQ

Can I make this in advance? Oh, for sure. It actually gets better overnight, flavors blend more (assuming you don’t snack it away at midnight).
Is it spicy? Not crazy-hot—more a mellow, cozy heat. Add more chipotles if you want to sweat a bit.
What kind of cheese do you really use? I love Oaxaca, but mozzarella totally works. A sharp cheddar is, well, a little weird, but nobody’s judging.
Why are my tacos soggy? You probably over-dipped the tortillas, or maybe the pan wasn’t hot enough. Just crank up the heat and try again—happens to the best of us.
Any good side dishes? Heck yes! Street corn (I follow the version by Serious Eats) or a chilled Mexican coke makes everyone’s mood shoot up about 200%. On second thought, fresh salsa and a couple of ice-cold beers work wonders too.
What if I don’t have dried chiles? A little store-bought chili powder (about a tablespoon) can work—flavor won’t be as deep but it’ll do in a pinch.

Birria Quesa Tacos Recipe