Customers grab metal tongs and load up pastries on red cafeteria trays lined with wax paper. Inside La Union, a gigantic plywood cabinet near the entrance is stacked with every carbohydrate you can imagine: guava-stuffed empanadas, conchas (sweet bread rolls shaped like shells), slices of Niño Envuelto (a coconut-topped jelly roll), sugar cookies dyed the colors of the Mexican flag. La Union Mexican Bakery and Restaurantħ796 Wiles Rd, Coral Springs 95, Off-menu tip: Monarca will also give the birria treatment to burritos on special request. In the dining room, the shredded beef had a chewier texture than most birria de res – likely because this cut of beef is less expensive – and its spicy consomme tasted savory, albeit more oily than rich. Next, they’re plated with sides of Mexican rice and refried beans. All tacos are dunked in red consommé before they’re fried to a crisp. Monarca’s version of quesabirria tacos ($15) are three soft corn tortillas filled with shredded steak, a cheddar-American cheese blend, red onions and cilantro.
“It’s a twist on how they serve it in Mexican border towns, and made for American palates who aren’t used to goat or lamb,” says Gutierrez, who also runs a pair of restaurants in New Hampshire. Gutierrez grew up outside Jalisco, the birthplace of birria, and uses a closely guarded family recipe for the broth that includes overripe tomatoes (“right on the edge of being not good,” she says), ancho and guajillo chilies, ginger, oregano and garlic salt. Monarca comes from co-owner Karla Guttierez, who uses flank steak, which braises for five hours. Federal Highway, Fort Lauderdale 95, Ī cocktail bar, brass candelabras and trendy paintings of women in sugar-skull makeup distinguish this clubby Mexican restaurant and spirits hub, which opened in March. They deep-fried the tacos on the griddle until they achieved a hard crunch, added rivers of Mexican cheese and repurposed the au jus as a dipping sauce.Īdvertisement Casa Monarca Mexican Restaurant & Tequila BarĢ980 N. They replaced lean goat with fattier beef, which was more palatable for American tastes. They swapped flour tortillas for corn because it crisped better. It was birria in quesadilla form – and they called it quesabirria, adds Francisco Rosa, chef-owner of La Cabana Latin Grill in West Palm Beach. That was until 2019, when young Mexican-American entrepreneurs in Los Angeles and Tijuana turned birria into a cheesy, deep-fried experience. Finally, the birria would be piled into soft, handmade flour tortillas, and served for breakfast – or family celebrations like quinceañeras and weddings, she says.
Cooks would cover the pot with cactus leaves, which dripped juices into the broth. Around Jalisco, Mexico, where she grew up and where it’s traditionally prepared, birria is goat or lamb stew massaged with spices and cooked slowly in a clay pot sitting at the bottom of a freshly dug pit. Quesabirria may be trendy now, but birria (pronounced “bee-ree-ya”) has been around since conquistadors landed in Mexico 500 years ago, says Karla Gutierrez, chef and co-owner of Casa Monarca Mexican Restaurant and Tequila Bar in Fort Lauderdale.