Taco Task Force #2: Goat Birria Tacos

Intro


Birria is one of those foods that hit the exact note you're listening for, the kind of meaty, gamey, spicy, soulful dish that's at once comforting and intriguing. Like many braised or roasted meats, when cooked well, birria does a masterful job of taking on the subtle complexity of certain spices such as clove, dried chilies, and cumin, and then piecing together the meat into an amalgam of delicious textures. Though birria can take the form of lamb or mutton, the traditional celebratory animal used is goat, or also called birria de chivo. The styles of birria preparation range a number of states and regions in Mexico, originally Jalisco, and also Guadalajara and Zacatecas.

I've always loved the idea of an entire establishment specializing in just one dish, an approach that's common with Korean cuisine. Los Angeles has been blessed with an inordinate plenitude of birria establishments, some of them canonized as classic restaurants. We were able to visit at least two of these places, but were more surprised by the quality and execution of a few surprise spots that we found along the way.

Why the Taco Task Force does what it does

Comprised of Bill, Josh, Javier, Cathy (and Vern), and myself, the Taco Task Force gathered a few months ago to find the best fish taco in Los Angeles, something I wasn't able to contribute to. I remember when Bill Esparza first asked us if we wanted to start a group that became an authoritative voice in this taco-loving city. Bill wanted to make right the notion that Los Angeles tacos are only comprised of steeltop grilled meats and offal distributed through a myriad taco trucks or the dingy taquerias sprawling the concrete wasteland of this city.

Even the modest foodie would claim an allegiance to some truck or establishment, but what most Angelenos consider to be a "true" taco might not be a reflection of Mexican cuisine's finest. At its base, a taco is something wrapped in something else, and in this cuisine we all know that to be a tortilla, made most commonly with maize or flour. Bill considered some of us who'd been along for the ride during our now legendary weekend jaunt in Baja California as a veritable training ground and introductory foundation for our knowledge of Mexican Cuisine. None of us will ever approach the extensive knowledge of Bill, who've traveled to more Mexican states than one can count, eating his way through abandoned country roads, shady city streets, and beach-side shacks. Who better to learn from?

We considered the Taco Task Force as a fun way to show that though Los Angeles has perhaps the best taco scene (if you want to call it that) in the nation, most of its excellence goes under-appreciated and unnoticed by the masses. Though our purview is by no means exhaustive, we do our due dilligence to at least defend our conclusion with a wealth of tangible experience in the field.

What to look for in good birria

With that, we kicked off the second mandate of the Taco Task Force, birria de chivo. Birria de chivo is commonly prepared in earthen pots and ovens (though this is not requisite for good flavor), and served with the cooking broth (called consomme though the term is not technical), eaten with handmade tortillas, and accoutrements of chopped white or yellow onions (red onion is faux pas), cilantro, and a spicy chile salsa.

When ranking the spots we visited, we debated and concluded upon four main criteria: quality of the key ingredient, accompanying ingredients (including accoutrements and tortillas), overall flavor (which judges the sum of the parts), and technique of cooking (success of execution).

Personally my approach to present the findings won't belabor the point with too many photos (just some that are helpful), and also speak more about the places that deserve the attention. The forgetful places will only warrant brief notes.

To put together the dish, just pull apart some meat, place in a tortilla, top with cilantro and onion, add a squeeze of lemon or lime juice, and cover with some consomme and chile salsa.

The disappointment

We hope that we won't run into too many of these. The only major disappointment in my mind was a woeful stop at Birrieria Guadalajara, an eponym that should denote a certain cachet, but one that failed to live up to even modest expectations (since none of us had heard of the place). The meat was bland, the accompaniments were weak, and the overall result was pitiful. Moving on...

The classic spots

Just because something is old and has existed for many generations doesn't mean that it deserves the hype or resembles its lofty past. With that said, these spots do hold a certain appeal because of tradition and a unique ambiance. No one can deny the decidedly old-school "cool" factor of the Original Pantry Cafe (a high school and college haunt for me), or the bustling lunch crowd at Phillippe The Original, despite the fact that others might make better products. The same is true for our three "classic" spots, El Parian, Birrieria Jalisco, and Birrieria Chalio.


I'd dined at Birrieria Chalio, with Javier about a year ago and found it to be a swell spot. I love the Saturday afternoon slowness of the place, with the colorful jukebox filling the dining room with rumbling mariachi tunes. Cushy vinyl banquettes make family meals easy while a world-class collection of coin-operated glass toy vendors would give a kid with a bucket of quarters tons of fun. The food is certainly acceptable and no doubt fondly memorable for a guy like Javier, who practically grew at this spot. The meat is quite good, judging by the solid cooking technique (Zacatecas-style) for an otherwise blase meat quality. I formerly enjoyed the "flapjack" torillas but now prefer something smaller, so as not to overwhelm the flavor of the birria. Though the habernero salsa is a nice spicy sauce, the consomme strikes me as unremarkable. As my first official birria experience, Chalio was a good introduction to the dish, but I found my experience during this visit overshadowed by our subsequent destinations.

Birrieria Jalisco might be the first or second most lauded birria restaurant (or chain) in the city. We came here for our last destination of the day (yeah this rundown isn't chronological like the other TTF members). The ambiance had a decidedly villa feel to it, with auburn tiles and incandescent lights galore (and a bummer for digital cameras). I think the ho-hum quality of meat and accompaniments (store-bought tortillas? seriously?) brought this place down, though the dry, stringy meat had its appeal as an end product because of the hearty, flavorful consomme. Though Birrieria Jalisco is still recognized as a classic by mainstream press, it certainly isn't in my book.


Jonathan Gold revealed the glories of El Parian to the non-Spanish speaking world, a joint that's been open for 46 years on a blank stretch of Pico just east of Downtown. The dim, brick-laid interior felt cold to me but the action in the open kitchen warmed me up quickly, especially when I saw a robust "tia" working on a huge mound of tortilla dough. The hand-pressed tortillas paid off while the solidly done birria meat made for a memorable stop. This one was my favorite of the classic joints, and the one that I will frequent because of its good location and availability of other foods (such as a very good LA-style carne asada) on the menu. I noted the overall effect of flavorful consomme, tender but still goaty (in a good way) meat, and nice service to be the selling points. Gold was definitely not off in pointing this place out.



The New(er) Guard of Birria Restaurants


You're going read extensively about an absolute coup that Birrieria Tepeque pulled off, reigning in first place almost universally. The previously unknown spot was Bill's discovery, a relatively boring edifice that has an oversized dining space. It didn't matter, because the amazingly succulent and tender meat shined. The divine concoction of classic birria spices imbued in the meat was the most salient part of the experience. To me it felt like the perfect birria meat, though one that I'm sure would be overtaken by a clay jar roasted sample from the heart of Mexico. Still, the crew felt incredibly pleased to enjoy Tepeque. Do consider getting the stringier but more satisfying rib meat, which comes on slender white ribs. Also ask for the dark spicy chili sauce, made with ground dried chilies, makes for an extra flavor boost.


I also really liked Tlaquepaque, which has two locations across the street from each other. I recommend going to the sit-down place, which offers a better dining experience than the one we had. The smaller place across the street is no bigger than a fashionista's closet, but still manages to fit in a jukebox (to which I donated a dollar and picked three random songs for fun). Despite some service difficulties (they wouldn't give us spoons for some reason), the actual birria, which was served with rib and leg meat in a bowl filled with redolent consomme. I actually really liked the meat though the tortillas were just ordinary storebought. I'd still return here for a full sit-down experience, but judging just from the meat, it's a good spot.


Flor Del Rio captured the hearts of many foodies with Jonathan Gold's superb piece in LA Weekly. I just loved the entire setup he made about the restaurant being a quintessential corner birria joint. It might have puffed up the place for me when I finally dinned here but have no doubt that it still ranks among my personal top two. The place harks back to not only a region, Zacatecas, but a pueblo, Nochislan de Mejia.

Bill and I let the hours pass as we dined here on a Sunday morning, talking about life, music, and just about everything. It made it even easier to love the squared room with requisite murals and the perfect ambiance for birria. The meat also captivated the both of us, with its multifaceted textures (stringy, tender, almost crisp at the edges). You can ask for the meat to come with the consomme on the side or on the plate; overwhelmingly I've preferred to have the meat just sitting in the broth. I also loved the thinly-constructed tortillas, which are just a tad wider than the palm of your hand and well-suited to soak up any residual consomme. Flor Del Rio is the ideal spot to linger, watching the families poke in with their children and gorge on a delicious meal of birria. Consider birria for your next Sunday or Saturday brunch replacement, or maybe a stand-in for your next taco adventure. The meal will blow away the grilled meats you're used to.

The Taco Task Force Top Five Birrierias in Los Angeles

1. Birrieria Tepeque
2. Birrieria Flor del Rio
3. El Parian
4. Birrieria Tlaquepaque
5. Birrieria El Chalio

Locations:

Birrieria Guadalajara
1128 South Atlantic Boulevard, Los Angeles, 323 268 8885

Birrieria Chalio
3580 East 1st Street, Los Angeles, 323-268-5349

Birrieria Jalisco
1845 East 1st Street, Los Angeles, 323-262-4552

El Parian
1528 West Pico Boulevard, Los Angeles, 213-386-7361

Tepeque
3249 East Gage Avenue, Huntington Park, 323-588-8350

Tlaquepaque
1753 East Florence Avenue, Los Angeles, 323-581-0800

Flor del Rio
3201 East 4th Street, Los Angeles, 323-268-0319

Birrieria Chalio: East LA Braised Goat Paradise

I know you all want the story/review of my recent trip to the French Laundry, but I have yet to upload my photos onto Flickr, which I use as a vehicle to post my photos onto this blog. Until then, you'll have to be satisfied with a quick review of a great birrieria that Javier of The Glutster pointed us to on a sun-soaked Sunday afternoon in East LA. Apparently Javier's been coming here since childhood and gnawing on the amazing goat bones that feature some of the most succulent, tasty birria I've had.



Something about this worn-in joint along an anonymous boulevard in East LA is comforting - a familiarity that reminds me long summer days growing up on Cerritos. I recall going to Gil Mok, or Corner Place, in Cerritos where plump banquettes and the smell of grilling meat beckons you. At Birrieria Chalio, you get some similar with worn out booths and the smell of herbs and roasted meat. Actually birria is a braise of goat meat, simmered for many hours in a concoction of spices and herbs until the meat is tender.



Tender's probably too light a word, as is succulent. The first bite of this pleasantly seasoned, richly fatty goat meat sends one into a mild euphoria, or perhaps the age-old comfort that our ancestors had as early in their fields after braising a prized goat from their herd. Contrast the backbones, featuring large fatty chunks that remind one of short rib, to the stringier rib meat, which has hints of the meadows from which this goat fed (actually probably just livestock feed - I doubt this goat was a Niman Ranch ideal).



The meat has a red tinge from a generous helping of tomatillos and chiles, neither of which overpower the meat. The birria isn't a gamey or offensive meat, but a richly textured one that stands on its own against braised pork, duck, or even beef.






Topped with the appropriate accoutrements of lemon, diced onion, and cilantro, and wrapped in pillowy thick tortillas resembling baby bibs, it makes for the perfect dip into the broth straddling the meat. Be sure to add a bit of the intensely spicy habanero sauce that adds a requisite kick, it'll round out the melange of flavors ranging from acidic to hearty to meaty to even a bit grassy. Wash it all down with a cucumber lime agua fresca, just syrupy and refreshing enough to cleanse the palate for another bite of this luscious meat.



Birrieria Chalio's worth the trek to East LA, but for Javier, it's just a hop-skip away to his childhood haunt. Lucky guy.

Tacos El Pariente: Birria Taco Sample

We'd just finished our hour-long tour of Intelligentsia Roasting Works, then had some delicious tacos at Rambo's Tacos in Glassell Park. I was dropping off Javier and HC to the local Gold Line station in Highland Park (Southwest Station) so they could go their respective ways. On the way, Javier points out a truck that I've passed for years without ever noticing. "Chivo," is a spanish word for "goat-er" like fromager (cheese-er) or perhaps butcher. Generally a good sign when you're looking for high quality birria. Birria is a slow-braised goat meat that's succulent and falling-off-the-bone at its best. I haven't had too many renditions of it though Javier suggested that whenever we see "birria" or "chivo", just go and try one taco.

That's exactly what Christine and I did, even though we had just had some tripas, lengua, and cabeza tacos at Rambo's. The sign says, "tacos hecho a mano," meaning they're all hand-made.

We ordered one taco, costing just $1. NICE. In the meantime, Christine created a little melange of veggies to counter the meat, since she loves her vegetables. A little sauce to season it and we were on our way to finger-lickin' good concoction of Mexican veggies.

We saw them grilling up a fresh tortilla - nothing from a plastic bag here. Definitely encouraging. Also, they took out a huge hunk of bone and axed off chunks of juicy flesh for our taco. Another encouraging sign, it definitely re-whet our appetites despite the greasy "snack" from Rambo's.



It's simple, tender meat, unadorned until we lightly dressed it with some cilantro, diced onions, and a hint of sauce. I didn't want to overpower the meat on this taste. It was not offensive at all, in fact it was slightly musty but in a good way. The gamey flesh was tamed with the hours-long braising while each bite had grassy and herbal hints. To hell with this flowery language - we just devoured the thing. I wanted to order more but I had to restrain myself. We should have dipped the taco in the wonderful broth that they provided, but we just sipped it slowly.



Christine is one lover of anything brothy or soupy, let me tell you. I think soup/broth comprises like 50% of all her meals. And she loved this broth.

I didn't know that birria is generally considered to have aphrodisiac qualities, so I'll keep that in mind. I'm sure that's one last tidbit that'll convince you to try not only this birria place, but many more. Like Javier says, whenever you see "chivo", try a taco. Just do it.

Tacos El Pariente
Corner of Ave 50 and Monte Vista St.
Highland Park
Los Angeles, CA 90042