My Oh-So-Cheesy Birria Quesadillas Story

Okay, so I have to tell you — the very first time I made these birria quesadillas was because my neighbor, Mrs. Gomez, kept talking about her son’s Taco Tuesday obsession. This was years ago. I remember it because I ended up spilling the consommé all over my brand new socks. Classic. The house smelled like chili and toasted cheese for days — not a complaint, honestly. Now, it’s become a “rainy weekend” kind of meal, especially when we’re just looking for something that feels like a hug from the kitchen. And between you and me, my first batch came out more like tacos than quesadillas, but everyone still ate them up (probably because cheese fixes everything).

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Dish

I make this when comfort is needed, or sometimes just because I can’t face another plain grilled cheese. My family goes crazy for these because the meat is ridiculously tender and the cheese gets all golden and stringy (I swear, the cheese pull moment is worth it alone). Sometimes, I think my kids like dipping it in the birria consommé more than actually eating the quesadilla. Oh, and, fair warning — it is a bit of a process, but not the kind where you have to babysit a pot for five hours (I did that once, not recommended unless you enjoy existential pondering with your stews). And when I forget to plan ahead, I’ve totally made it work with store-bought shredded beef. Not perfect, but still disappears fast!

The Stuff You’ll Need (And Some Handy Substitutions)

Short ribs or chuck roast (about 2 lbs) — sometimes I just use brisket if it’s on sale. My abuela swore by chuck roast, but, let’s be real, any marbled beef will do in a pinch.
3-4 dried guajillo chiles (seeded) — if your store only has ancho, use those. Or, in a moment of desperation, I’ve used chili powder (not as good, but it works… sort of).
1-2 dried ancho chiles (seeded)
1 onion (quartered)
4 garlic cloves
1 tomato (quartered) — canned diced tomatoes in winter, trust me, it’s fine.
2 bay leaves
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp dried oregano
Salt and pepper — I never measure, sorry.
3 cups beef broth (or water if you forgot to buy it, just add a bit more salt)
Corn tortillas (sometimes I use flour, which is probably heresy, but they’re tasty)
2 cups Oaxaca, mozzarella, or Monterey Jack cheese (shredded) — in a fridge emergency, honestly any meltable cheese works. I even used cheddar once. Nobody complained.

Let’s Get Cooking (The Not-So-Grand Plan)

Toast and soak the chiles. Rip off the stems, toss the seeds, and toast the chiles in a dry pan for maybe 1-2 minutes (just until they smell kind of smoky; don’t walk away here unless you enjoy the aroma of burnt regret).
Soak them. Pour a cup of hot water over the chiles in a small bowl, let them laze about for 10ish minutes — this is the part I usually use to chop onions and, if I’m honest, clean up the mess I just made.
Braise the beef. In a big pot or Dutch oven, brown the beef on all sides with a splash of oil, then add onion, garlic, tomato, cumin, oregano, bay leaves, and that chile-soaking water (plus the chiles). Salt, pepper. Pour in the broth. Give it a stir, put a lid on it, and let it go over medium-low heat for two—and-a-half, maybe three hours. Truth: I’ve done this in my slow cooker when I have to leave the house (6-8 hours on low and it’s falling apart).
Make it saucy. Pull out the beef, let it sit, and grab the onion, garlic, tomato, and chiles from the pot. Blend those with a cup or so of the broth until smooth. (This does get messy, so don’t wear white.) Pour it back in with the rest of the broth. Shred the beef — this is where I start sneaking pieces. Mix the beef with a ladle or two of that blended broth so it’s juicy.
Assemble the quesadillas (the fun bit). Dip tortillas in the broth, then pop them on a hot skillet. Scatter cheese, then a heap of shredded beef, then fold it over (or do double tortillas if you prefer). Cook until the outside’s a little crisp and the cheese goes all gooey. Flip gingerly — it’s hot and, yes, sometimes the filling falls out. That’s life.
Serve and dip. Pour the leftover birria broth in mugs or bowls for dipping. Because, let’s face it, that’s the real party here.

What I Figured Out Along the Way

Dipping tortillas before frying makes them extra bite-worthy, but if you forget (I have), just spoon broth over at the end. Still good.
Don’t stress about the exact cut of beef. One time, I made this with leftover roast and it was still delish.
The power of cheese can cover a multitude of sins. Don’t have Oaxaca? Eh, use whatever’s in the fridge.

If You’re Feeling Adventurous (or, Oops, That Didn’t Work)

I tried adding sweet corn once. It didn’t add much — so I stick with onions for a little crunch, or pickled jalapeños for zing.
I swapped in chicken one time and it tasted… not quite right? Stick with beef if you can.
For spicy lovers, a dash of chipotle in the blending step is epic. Just don’t overdo it unless you enjoy tears at dinner.
Sometimes, I toss cilantro or a squirt of lime over the top — my husband swears this is “the secret.” I roll my eyes, but it *is* good.

What You’ll Need (Or, What I Use When I’m Lazy)

Heavy pot or Dutch oven — essential for braising, but a big slow cooker works too. One time, I used a cheap roasting pan on the stovetop and just constantly watched it. Not my favorite, but hey, it worked.
Nonstick or cast iron pan for the quesadillas — but, honestly, I’ve made these right on my electric griddle too.
Blender — immersion or regular, doesn’t matter. My old hand blender has seen some things; if you only have a food processor, that’s fine (just be careful with hot liquids — learned that the messy way).

Storing (Ha, If There Even Are Leftovers)

Store any leftover meat and consommé in the fridge, separated, in containers for up to 3 days. The cheese part, well, gets a bit rubbery if you reheat it, but it’s still totally edible. You can freeze the meat/broth (do it together or apart, your call). But, honestly, in my house these never make it past breakfast the next day. And that’s if I hide them.

Serving it Up (My Family’s Rituals)

Whip up a simple salsa — I’m partial to a quick salsa verde like this. Or serve with lots of limes, chopped onion, and cilantro. My kids love them with sour cream (controversial, but hey, happy kids). Sometimes I go really wild and make a cucumber salad or some rice like this one on the side, but usually? Just mugs of consomé and a pile of napkins.

Things I Wish I’d Known (or: Don’t Make My Mistakes)

Don’t rush the braising. I once tried to crank the heat to cut time, but the beef got tough. Slow and steady, like a Sunday stroll, is the way.
Don’t overstuff your quesadillas. More is less here (and less mess). My kitchen floor learned this lesson the hard way.

Real FAQ From Friends and Random Message Board Posts

Can I make this ahead?: Absolutely. Actually, I think it tastes better the next day (especially for the beef). Just reheat gently.
Are flour tortillas okay?: Yep! It’s not traditional, but sometimes I run out of corn. They’re delicious, just a little less crispy.
Do I have to use all these chiles?: Nope. Use what you can find. Start with one type if you’re new. More chiles, more depth. Simple as that.
My quesadillas keep falling apart. Why?: They might be overfilled or your tortillas could be a bit thin. Try using less filling and dip the tortilla first in broth for flexibility.
Can I skip the cheese?: You could, but, um, why would you? (But, yes, for dairy-free, it’s still super tasty.)
Best salsa for these?: I love something tangy — maybe a salsa verde or pico de gallo. Hot sauce works in a pinch, too.

So that’s my not-so-perfect, totally satisfying Birria Quesadillas adventure. Give it a go! And let me know if you spill consommé on your socks (misery loves company).

Birria Quesadillas Recipe: My Cozy Home-Cook Version