Birria de Res — The Wednesday Gift That Needs No Occasion

Father's Day. Luis does not like Father's Day. He says it is a greeting card holiday invented to sell ties, which is rich coming from a man who does not own a tie and would not know how to knot one if his life depended on it. But the children insisted, and so we celebrated, because in the Gutierrez house the children's insistence outranks the father's objections, which is as it should be.

Luis Jr. cooked breakfast. Huevos rancheros — tortillas, fried eggs, the salsa we keep in the refrigerator in a jar that has been refilled so many times it has lost its label. He cooked them the way Luis cooks them, not the way I cook them, and the difference is subtle but real: Luis fries the eggs in more oil (too much oil, I think, but I said nothing because it was his day and his son and his eggs) and he chars the tortilla edges, which I don't do but which Luis says is \"the best part.\" The eggs were good. Luis ate them at the kitchen table with all five children watching him and I stood in the doorway and watched the six of them and thought: this man. This good, quiet, steady man who works without complaint and loves without speeches and fixes swamp coolers and drives delivery vans and has never once made me feel like less than everything. This man.

I thought about Alejandro — my father, in Juárez, alone now in the house he built. Father's Day must be hard for him, though he would never say so, because Alejandro expresses emotion the way rocks express emotion: internally, invisibly, over geological time. I called him. He said he was fine. He said the house was fine. He said the neighborhood was fine. Everything was fine. Alejandro's fines are different from Rosa's — Rosa's mean \"I am suffering but I will not burden you.\" Alejandro's mean \"I have forgotten what feelings are because I put them in a bottle in 1993 and haven't opened it since.\"

Carmen came for dinner. She brought a cake from the grocery store — chocolate, with \"Happy Father's Day\" written in blue icing — and Luis said it was the best cake he'd ever had, which is a lie, because he eats my cakes every day and they are better, but Luis lies with kindness and Carmen needed to hear it and I have been married long enough to know that a good lie told from love is not a sin. It is a grace.

I made birria this week. Not for Father's Day — that was the huevos rancheros morning and a carne asada evening — but for Wednesday, because birria is Luis's favorite and I wanted to make something that was specifically for him, for no reason, on a day that was not special, because the best gifts are the ones that come without an occasion. Birria is beef, slow-braised in a chile guajillo and chile ancho sauce until it falls apart, served in tacos with the consommé for dipping. Rosa made it for weddings and baptisms. I make it on Wednesdays because my husband works hard and deserves to come home to a house that smells like braised beef and love.

Sofia asked me this week if Abuela Rosa was going to die. She asked it plainly, the way eleven-year-olds ask things — not with the cautious circling of adults but directly, like a door opening. I said: I don't know, mija. I said: Abuela is sick and she is old and I don't know. And Sofia nodded and didn't cry and went to her room and I heard her through the door, praying in Spanish, the prayers Rosa taught her on her last visit, and I stood in the hallway and put my hand on the door and prayed too, silently, on the other side, and for a moment we were praying together without knowing it, and I think that is what faith is — people praying on opposite sides of doors, hoping the same hope, trusting the same God.

The bakery is doing well. We had our best week yet — just over four thousand dollars in sales, which after expenses leaves enough to pay everyone and put a little aside and breathe. Just a little. Just enough to unclench my jaw for a day or two before the next bill comes. But it is progress. It is forward. And forward is the only direction I know.

That week — Rosa’s illness, Sofia’s quiet prayers through the door, the bakery finally exhaling for the first time in months — I needed to cook something that asked something of me, something that couldn’t be rushed. Birria is that kind of food: it demands patience, low heat, time, the willingness to wait for something good. Rosa used to make it for every hard occasion, the kind of meal that says we are still here, we are still together, and so I made it now, for no occasion and every occasion at once. Here’s how.

Birria de Res (Braised Beef Tacos with Consommé)

Prep Time: 45 minutes | Cook Time: 3 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 3 1/2 lbs beef chuck roast, cut into 3-inch chunks
• 1 lb beef short ribs (bone-in)
• 2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1 tsp black pepper
• 2 tbsp neutral oil
• 6 dried guajillo chiles, stems and seeds removed
• 3 dried ancho chiles, stems and seeds removed
• 2 dried pasilla chiles, stems and seeds removed
• 1 chipotle chile in adobo sauce (plus 1 tsp of the sauce)
• 1 medium white onion, roughly chopped (plus 1/2 onion, finely diced, for serving)
• 8 garlic cloves, peeled
• 2 Roma tomatoes, halved
• 1 tsp dried Mexican oregano
• 1/2 tsp ground cumin
• 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
• 3 whole cloves
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
• 4 cups beef broth, low sodium
• 2 cups water
• 16 corn tortillas, for serving
• 1 cup fresh cilantro, chopped, for serving
• 2 limes, cut into wedges, for serving

Instructions

1. Season and sear the beef. Pat the chuck roast and short ribs dry with paper towels. Season all over with 2 tsp salt and 1 tsp black pepper. Heat the oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high heat until shimmering. Sear the beef in batches, undisturbed, for 3–4 minutes per side until deeply browned. Do not crowd the pot. Transfer seared pieces to a plate and set aside.
2. Toast and rehydrate the dried chiles. Using the same pot over medium heat (no extra oil needed), add the guajillo, ancho, and pasilla chiles in a single layer. Press them flat with a spatula and toast for 30–45 seconds per side, until fragrant and slightly darkened. Do not let them burn or the sauce will be bitter. Transfer to a bowl, cover with boiling water, and let soak 20 minutes until soft. Drain, reserving 1 cup of the soaking liquid.
3. Char the aromatics. Set a dry skillet or comal over high heat. Add the halved tomatoes, roughly chopped onion, and unpeeled garlic cloves. Char, turning occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until blackened in spots. Peel the garlic once cool enough to handle.
4. Blend the chile sauce. Combine the drained rehydrated chiles, charred tomatoes, onion, garlic, chipotle chile and adobo sauce, oregano, cumin, cinnamon, cloves, vinegar, and 1 cup of the reserved chile soaking liquid in a blender. Blend on high for 2 minutes until completely smooth. Taste and add salt if needed.
5. Braise the beef. Return the seared beef to the Dutch oven. Pour the chile sauce over the top, then add the beef broth, water, and bay leaves. The liquid should nearly cover the meat; add more water if needed. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low simmer. Cover and cook for 3 to 3 1/2 hours, until the beef is completely tender and falls apart when pressed with a fork.
6. Shred and reserve the consommé. Remove the beef from the pot and shred with two forks, discarding any large bones and the bay leaves. Skim the fat from the surface of the braising liquid (the consommé) — or ladle the liquid into a fat separator. Taste the consommé and adjust salt. Stir the shredded beef back into the consommé or keep separate, as preferred.
7. Assemble the tacos. Warm the tortillas on a dry comal or cast-iron skillet over medium heat until pliable and lightly charred at the edges. For each taco, dip a tortilla briefly in the top layer of the consommé (the chile-fat layer on the surface), lay it on the hot comal, fill with shredded birria, fold in half, and press with a spatula for 1–2 minutes until crisp and slightly caramelized.
8. Serve with consommé. Ladle the hot consommé into small bowls for dipping. Serve tacos topped with finely diced white onion and chopped cilantro, with lime wedges on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 41g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 680mg