Name: Birria Enchiladas
Prep time: 30 min
Cook time: 2 h
Total time: 2 h 30 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Mexican
Ingredients: 2 lbs beef chuck roast, cut into chunks; 2 dried guajillo chiles, stemmed and seeded; 2 dried ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded; 1 large onion, chopped; 3 cloves garlic; 2 cups beef broth; 1 tsp cumin; 1 tsp dried oregano; 8 corn tortillas; 2 cups shredded Oaxaca or mozzarella cheese; Salt and pepper, to taste; Chopped cilantro and diced onion for garnish

So, Birria Enchiladas—Why All the Fuss?

Okay, you know those recipes you try once for a party and then your friends insist you make them again? That’s Birria Enchiladas for me—except it was my cousin who wouldn’t stop dropping hints (he literally texted when I posted leftovers on Instagram). I’m not saying I’m always the hero at family get-togethers, but let’s just say when these hit the table, people forget about their diets for a hot second.

Funny bit: The first time I tried making birria, I roasted the wrong peppers, set off my smoke alarm, and my dog hid under the bed. But the end result? Worth every ounce of chaos—the smell alone had everyone hovering in the kitchen asking, “Is it ready yet?”

Why You’ll Love This (Or, When I Make It)

I make this when cold weather rolls in, or honestly, whenever I’ve got leftover birria from a Sunday binge. My family goes wild over the cheesy, saucy vibe (teenagers especially; they’re allergic to anything green, but not melted cheese). Sometimes, if I’m feeling fancy—or just have people to impress—I serve this with pickled onions. On rushed weeknights, though, I’ve even tried grocery store rotisserie chicken with jarred sauce. Not as magical, but the kids didn’t stage a revolt, which counts.

Honestly, my only real beef is how long birria takes, but as soon as I take that first bite, I forget my two hours of simmering. And… the leftovers are, bizarrely, even better.

Things You’ll Need To Round Up (Ingredients, In My Real Life)

3 cups leftover birria meat (shredded beef, lamb, or even goat if you’re hardcore—I switch between beef chuck and lamb, depending what’s on sale or what looked good at the butcher ahem)
About 2 cups birria consommé (though sometimes I just use beef broth when I’m out—don’t judge)
12 corn tortillas (medium size, but I’ve used flour in a pinch, don’t tell my grandmother)
2 cups shredded Oaxaca cheese (Monterey Jack or mozzarella totally work, but if you want that melty stretch—sharp cheddar is…well, edgy but not classic)
1 small white onion, diced (red onion if that’s what you have—I won’t tattle)
Fresh cilantro, chopped—a big handful
Lime wedges (I forgot the lime once and regretted everything)
Vegetable oil for frying
Optional: sliced jalapeños, crumbly cotija, or avocado—my daughter swears by avocado… me, I go heavy on the cheese

PS: I sometimes skip the cheese if I’m low, but honestly, the melty stuff is half the fun.

Alright, Let’s Dive In (How I Make ‘Em)

Preheat your oven to 375°F (if you’re baking to finish. Sometimes I skip this and just devour them straight from the pan. No shame.)
Heat a wide skillet with a splash of oil. Dip your tortillas one by one into the warm birria consommé. This is messy. Just accept it.
Set the dipped tortilla straight in the hot pan, about 10-15 seconds per side. You want that slight blister but not too crispy—think floppy taco vibes. Stack ‘em up under a towel to keep cozy.
Fill each tortilla with shredded birria, some cheese, a sprinkle of onion, and cilantro. Roll them up and line in an oven-safe dish. (Actually, I tend to overfill, and things burst, but you know, that’s character.)
Once all rolled, pour a generous ladle of consommé over—don’t drown, but don’t be stingy either. Top with more cheese (obviously; is there ever too much?)
Bake for 10-15 minutes, just til the cheese is molten and you see bubbling. This is where I sneak a taste, scalding my tongue every time. Worth it.
Sling on more chopped onions, cilantro, and, if you like danger, extra sliced jalapeños post-bake. Squeeze lime all over. Eat standing up over the sink if needed (trust me!)

Notes (Things I’ve Actually Learned Hanging Around My Kitchen)

If you let the rolled enchiladas sit for a few minutes before baking, they soak up more flavor, but sometimes I just can’t wait.
Store-bought tortillas crack a bit more unless you heat them up really good first—don’t skip that or you’ll wind up with birria nachos (not the worst thing, honestly).
I tried one batch with wheat tortillas; in theory, they work, but man, they get gummy fast.

Variations I’ve Messed With (Some Winners—One Fail)

Did pulled pork birria once. Fantastic—tangier, but still crave-worthy.
Cheese-only version for my vegetarian friend: not…bad? Texture’s off, but she loved it. Maybe she’s just really polite.
I once tried adding black beans inside, but it made a bizarrely heavy combo—not recommended unless you enjoy food comas.
A little crema drizzled on top is next-level, but maybe that’s just a me thing

Equipment You MIGHT Need (And Workarounds)

Wide skillet (nonstick is easier, but I’ve used a battered old stainless and survived)
Baking dish (I used a cake tin once—nobody cared and it worked perfectly)
Tongs (essential, but a big fork or even your hands, with a prayer, can do in a pinch—it’ll get messy either way)

How to Store (Or…Will You Even Have Leftovers?)

Just keep any extras (ha! good luck with that) in a covered container in the fridge. They do reheat okay in the oven or even a skillet if you’re feeling picky. Microwave works but gets a little sad and floppy. I swear these taste even better on day two, but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day—a true mystery.

How I Serve ‘Em: What Makes Me Happy

I usually pile on more cilantro and raw onions, then hand out lime wedges like they’re going out of style. My uncle demands a bottle of hot sauce on the table, but I quietly prefer them just as they are. If I have time? A jicama slaw or some crunchy pickled veggies on the side. Oh, and a cold Mexican soda. Honestly, if you’re looking for proper birria rituals—check out this deep dive from Mexico in My Kitchen or snag some tips on perfect consommé at Tasting Table.

Pro Tips—Mostly Learned the Hard Way

Don’t rush soaking those tortillas—once I did and ended up with them splitting everywhere; made me want to hide under the table (with my dog, probably).
Let the pan get really hot before dipping, or things get soggy and stick. Asked my cousin for help once; he pretended to know but made it worse, haha.
Add a little broth to the pan while baking if it looks dry, but don’t get overzealous—I drowned mine once and it turned into birria soup. Tasty, but not ideal for forks.

FAQ—Just Stuff I’ve Been Asked (And My Honest Answers)

Can I use store-bought birria?
Totally! I do when I’m short on time, though it may be a smidge less deep in flavor. Either way, it’s 100x better than no birria at all.
Are flour tortillas okay?
You can use them—just keep an eye, as they cook quicker and get a bit mushy. Corn is classic (and in my opinion, actually holds up better).
Can kids eat these?
Mine do! If the consommé is too spicy, just swap with mild broth. The cheese helps everyone forget any heat.
How do you make birria from scratch?
It’s a process (chiles, spices, slow cooking…), but check out Serious Eats’ guide—they nail it. That or corner your favorite Mexican auntie.
What goes with it?
Rice, beans, jicama slaw, or just a cold cerveza. Or all three, if your appetite’s as big as mine.

Random note: If you’re ever in the mood to chat about which cheese melts best or accidentally started a dish on fire—drop me a message. My kitchen’s basically a laboratory for hungry people and curious accidents.

Birria Enchiladas: How I Actually Make Them at Home