Smoked Birria Tacos (Quesabirria Style)

Birria started as a goat stew out of Jalisco, built to make a tough, cheap cut worth eating: a long simmer, a mess of dried chiles, and a broth that did double duty as sauce and soup. None of that ever needed a smoker. It needed time and a pot with a lid. But birria traveled, taco trucks in Tijuana and LA started folding the shredded meat into a tortilla with cheese and inventing the dip-and-griddle move that turns a stew into quesabirria, and it turns out a dish built entirely around a long, low, moist cook is one of the easiest things I’ve adapted to a pellet grill.

This version keeps the stew part identical to what you’d get from a good taco truck. What’s different is what happens before the meat ever touches the braise.

Why Smoke It First

A straight braise gets you tender, well-seasoned beef. It doesn’t get you bark, and it doesn’t get you the layer of rendered, smoke-scented fat that floats to the top of the consommé and later gets brushed onto the griddle for frying the tacos. Three hours in the smoker before the braise gets you both, and that fat is doing real work later in this recipe, not sitting there for show.

Granted, a birria purist is right to point out that smoke has no business anywhere near a traditional Jalisco stew, and I won’t argue the history with them. That said, I’m not trying to be traditional here. I’m trying to make the best pot of chile-braised, shredded beef I can, and a real smoke gets me there in a way that skipping it never did.

One extra step. Worth it.

The Meat

I usually run a 50/50 split of chuck roast and bone-in short rib. The short rib adds collagen and a little more fat than chuck alone gives you, and it’s the version I’d make if you asked me to cook for you. That said, chuck roast by itself works completely fine. I’ve made this a dozen times with nothing but a single chuck roast because that’s what the store had that week, and nobody at the table complained or asked where the short rib went.

• 3 lb beef chuck roast, cut into 3–4 large chunks
• 2 lb bone-in beef short rib (optional, see note above; substitute more chuck roast if skipping)
• 2 tbsp neutral oil, for the bind
• 1 tbsp kosher salt
• 1 tsp black pepper

The Consommé

This is the part that actually makes it birria and not just smoked beef with peppers in the pot. Guajillo does most of the work here since it’s mild and fruity rather than hot, ancho adds body, and a couple of chiles de árbol are there strictly for heat, so pull those if you’re feeding anyone heat-sensitive.

• 6 dried guajillo chiles, stemmed and seeded
• 2 dried ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded
• 2 dried chiles de árbol, stemmed and seeded (optional, for heat)
• 1 medium white onion, half sliced and half quartered
• 8 cloves garlic, peeled
• 3 Roma tomatoes, halved
• 2 tbsp chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
• 6 cups beef stock, divided
• 1 tbsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp Mexican oregano
• 1 tsp dried thyme
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 4 whole cloves
• 3 bay leaves
• 2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
• 1½ tbsp kosher salt, plus more to taste

For the Tacos

• 16 corn tortillas
• 2–3 cups shredded Oaxaca or Monterey Jack cheese
• 1 white onion, finely diced
• 1 bunch cilantro, chopped
• Lime wedges

Smoke the Meat

1. Preheat your pellet smoker to 250°F using cherry pellets.
2. Pat the chuck roast and short rib dry, coat lightly with the oil as a binder, then season all sides with the salt and pepper.
3. Place the meat directly on the grate and smoke for about 3 hours, until it’s taken on a deep mahogany bark and reads 165–175°F internal. You’re building flavor here, not cooking it through, so don’t chase a higher number yet.

Build the Consommé

1. While the meat smokes, toast the guajillo, ancho, and árbol chiles in a dry skillet over medium heat for about 30 seconds per side, until fragrant. Don’t let them scorch or the consommé turns bitter.
2. Cover the toasted chiles with very hot water and soak for 20 minutes, until pliable.
3. In the same skillet, sauté the sliced half-onion until soft, about 8 minutes, then add the tomatoes and cook another 3–4 minutes.
4. Drain the chiles and add them to a blender with the sautéed onion and tomato, the garlic, chipotles in adobo, 2 cups of the beef stock, cumin, oregano, thyme, cinnamon, cloves, vinegar, and salt. Blend until completely smooth.
5. Strain the blended sauce through a fine mesh sieve into a large aluminum pan or Dutch oven, pushing through as much liquid as you can and discarding the solids left behind. Whisk in the remaining 4 cups of beef stock, the quartered onion, and bay leaves.

Braise

1. Once the meat hits 165–175°F, transfer it into the consommé so it’s submerged about two-thirds of the way up. Cover the pan tightly with foil.
2. Return the covered pan to the smoker at 250°F and braise for 2–4 hours, until the meat probes with zero resistance. Not “mostly tender,” it should slide in like the probe is going into softened butter. That’s usually 203°F internal, which is well past USDA’s minimum safe temperature of 145°F for whole cuts of beef; birria isn’t cooked to that number for safety, it’s cooked past it for texture. USDA FSIS has the safe minimums here if you want the full chart, and I’d trust a probe over a clock every time. A $99 instant-read is the one piece of gear I’d tell you not to skip.
3. Pull the meat and set it aside to cool slightly. Skim the rendered fat off the top of the consommé into a separate bowl and reserve it. You’ll fry the tortillas in it. Remove the bay leaves and quartered onion from what’s left, and that’s your consommé, ready for dunking.
4. Shred the meat, discarding the bone from the short rib and any large pockets of fat.

Build the Tacos

1. Heat a cast iron skillet or griddle over medium heat and brush with the reserved fat.
2. Dip each tortilla in the consommé, coating both sides, then lay it on the hot skillet.
3. Top with cheese and a portion of the shredded meat, fold the tortilla over, and press gently.
4. Cook 2–3 minutes per side, until the cheese has melted and the outside is crisp and deep golden. Add more fat to the pan between batches as needed.
5. Top with diced onion and cilantro, and serve with a small cup of warm consommé per person for dipping and lime wedges on the side.

If Something Goes Wrong

Meat that shreds dry usually means it got pulled before it actually hit that probe-tender point, not that it overcooked. Birria is forgiving on the high end. If you’re already plated and it’s dry, spoon extra consommé directly over the shredded meat before it goes into the tortilla and most of that gets fixed.

Consommé too thin to coat a tortilla properly just needs a 10–15 minute simmer, uncovered, to reduce. Too greasy, usually because you skipped skimming the fat, gets fixed the same way you should’ve done it the first time: skim it, then use what you skimmed for frying instead of throwing it out.

Tacos falling apart in the pan almost always means too much filling. Less meat than feels right, pressed flatter than feels right. It’ll still eat like plenty.

FAQ

What meat is used for birria tacos?

Traditionally, goat. In the US it’s most commonly beef chuck roast, sometimes with short rib added for extra fat and collagen, which is what I do here. Both are correct. Neither is more “real” than the other at this point in birria’s life outside Jalisco.

What cheese goes on quesabirria?

Oaxaca cheese if you can find it, since it melts and stretches the way a good queso should. Monterey Jack is the easy substitute and I use it more often than I’d like to admit, mostly because it’s what’s actually in my grocery store.

Are birria tacos spicy?

Not particularly, as written. Guajillo and ancho are both mild, fruity chiles. The heat here comes entirely from the optional chiles de árbol and the chipotles in adobo, both of which you can scale down or leave out without losing the flavor that actually makes it birria.

Can I make this without a smoker?

Yes, and it’s still a good taco. Sear the meat hard in a Dutch oven instead of smoking it, then braise the same way in your oven at 300°F. You’ll lose the bark and the smoke in the fat, which is genuinely worth having if you own a smoker already, but the consommé and the fold-and-fry technique don’t care where the meat came from.

That’s the version I make. If you’re the birria purist from a few paragraphs back and think the smoke is a mistake, I’d actually like to hear the argument.