Slow Cooker Beef Birria

Graduation is in two weeks. TWO WEEKS. I am not okay. I am functioning — I go to work, I run the kitchen, I make fifteen hundred meals a day, I come home and cook dinner — but inside I am a mess of pride and grief and the specific kind of terror that comes from knowing your last child is about to leave the nest and the nest is going to be so quiet and so empty and so full of memories that you will suffocate on them if you do not keep busy.

I am making Sofia graduation dinner. Not the school ceremony — that is the school business, with the caps and gowns and the speeches that go on too long and the alphabetical seating that puts Delgado-Ortiz somewhere in the Ds where nobody can see her because every tall person in Hartford has a last name that starts with A through C. No. I am making the DINNER. The real celebration. The one that happens at my table, with my food, with my family, where the love is visible and edible and the only diploma that matters is the one I give her, which is the knowledge that she was fed and loved and taught to cook sofrito and that is the only education that truly counts.

The menu: pernil, because pernil is for life milestones and graduation is the biggest milestone so far. Arroz con gandules. Tostones. Ensalada de coditos. Flan. But also — and this is new — I am making bacalaitos. Codfish fritters. Because bacalaitos were Sofia favorite food when she was six years old, when she used to stand on a chair in my kitchen and watch me fry them and she would eat them one by one as they came out of the oil, burning her fingers and not caring. She has not asked for bacalaitos in years. She probably does not remember asking for them at six. But I remember. Mothers remember everything. That is our superpower and our curse.

David called from Brooklyn and said he is coming for graduation. He is taking two days off from the restaurant, which for a sous chef is a significant sacrifice, and I told him so and he said, Mami, it is Sofia graduation. I am not missing it. My son. My chef son. Coming home to watch his baby sister graduate. I cried. He said, Are you crying? I said, No, I have sofrito in my eye. He said, Sofrito does not go in your eye. I said, It does when you are a mother and your son is coming home for his sister graduation.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. The food is planned. The table is ready. My heart is not ready. My heart will never be ready. But the pernil will be perfect and that will have to be enough.

I am making pernil for the graduation dinner, yes — that is non-negotiable, that is sacred — but I am also a professional, and a professional always tests a new dish before the big night, which is how I ended up making this slow cooker beef birria on a Tuesday when what I needed was something that required patience and low heat and the kind of long, slow cooking that feels like an act of faith. Birria is not Puerto Rican, but it is ours in the way that all deeply spiced, slow-cooked meat belongs to every mother who has ever stood at a stove and cooked love into something edible. When David comes home from Brooklyn, when Sofia sits at my table for what may be the last time as a girl who still lives here, I want a table so full of food that the grief has nowhere to land. This birria is one more dish for that table. One more reason to stay.

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 8 hours | Total Time: 8 hours 30 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

3 1/2 lbs beef chuck roast, cut into 3-inch chunks
1 lb bone-in beef short ribs
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more for seasoning
1 tsp black pepper
2 tbsp neutral oil
5 dried guajillo chiles, stems and seeds removed
3 dried ancho chiles, stems and seeds removed
2 dried pasilla chiles, stems and seeds removed
1 can (14.5 oz) fire-roasted diced tomatoes
1 medium white onion, roughly chopped, divided
6 garlic cloves, peeled
2 cups beef broth, divided
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 1/2 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried Mexican oregano
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
2 bay leaves
Fresh cilantro, diced white onion, and lime wedges for serving

Instructions

Toast and rehydrate the chiles. Heat a dry skillet over medium heat. Toast the guajillo, ancho, and pasilla chiles in batches for 20–30 seconds per side until fragrant and slightly darkened, pressing them flat with a spatula. Do not let them burn. Transfer toasted chiles to a bowl, cover with boiling water, and soak for 20 minutes until softened. Drain and discard soaking liquid.
Sear the beef. Pat beef chunks and short ribs very dry with paper towels and season generously on all sides with salt and pepper. Heat oil in a large heavy skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat until shimmering. Working in batches so you do not crowd the pan, sear the beef on all sides until a deep brown crust forms, about 3–4 minutes per side. Transfer seared beef to the slow cooker insert.
Build the chile sauce. Add the soaked drained chiles, fire-roasted tomatoes, half the chopped onion, garlic cloves, 1 cup of beef broth, apple cider vinegar, cumin, oregano, cinnamon, and cloves to a blender. Blend on high until completely smooth, about 1 minute. Taste and add 1/2 tsp salt.
Load the slow cooker. Pour the chile sauce over the seared beef in the slow cooker. Add the remaining 1 cup of beef broth and the bay leaves. Scatter the remaining chopped onion over the top. The liquid should come about halfway up the meat.
Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 8 hours, or on HIGH for 4 1/2 to 5 hours, until the beef is completely tender and falls apart when pressed with a fork. Do not lift the lid during cooking.
Shred and rest. Remove the bay leaves and discard. Transfer the beef to a cutting board and use two forks to shred it, discarding any large pieces of fat or bone. Return shredded beef to the slow cooker and stir it into the braising liquid. Taste the consommé (the rich broth) and adjust salt if needed. Let rest uncovered for 10 minutes so the beef absorbs the sauce.
Serve. Ladle beef and plenty of broth into wide bowls. Top with fresh diced white onion and cilantro. Serve with warm tortillas for dipping into the consommé and lime wedges on the side for squeezing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow Cooker Beef Birria — The Meat That Means I Love You