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South of the Border Quiche — The Rivera Super Bowl Table Always Has Room for One More

Super Bowl planning. The Eighth Annual Rivera Super Bowl Cookout — our house, thirty-plus people, the full canon. The menu has not changed in four years because the menu does not need to change: smoked mac and cheese, wings, burnt ends, sliders, smoked queso, and corn (Sofia's station, non-negotiable). The only addition this year: birria tacos, because I have been perfecting the recipe at the firehouse and it deserves a stage.

The birria: beef cheeks braised in guajillo-ancho chile sauce for six hours, shredded, the consomme strained and kept warm. The tortillas dipped in the red consomme and griddled until crispy, filled with the braised beef and Oaxaca cheese, served with a cup of consomme for dipping. The combination of crispy tortilla, molten cheese, tender beef, and the rich, spicy, beefy consomme is addictive at a level that should probably be regulated. I made a test batch for the crew. Travis ate nine. Nine birria tacos. He looked at me afterward with the expression of a man who has seen God and God was wearing a tortilla.

Elena has thrown herself into retirement with the energy of a woman who has been waiting thirty-five years to not have a schedule. She is at our house three days a week — watching the kids after school (the new grandparent arrangement that saves us childcare costs and gives Elena purpose and gives Sofia and Diego the undivided attention of a woman who considers grandmothering to be the apex of human achievement). She cooks for them — not my food, her food: arroz con pollo, enchiladas, sopa de fideo, the comfort food of my childhood served to my children by the woman who served it to me. The cycle is so perfect it hurts.

Diego comes home from Elena's with food in his hair and stories about cooking with Abuela: "We made BEANS, Daddy. I stirred them. Abuela says I stir good." The boy who drops dinosaurs in soup is learning to stir beans with his grandmother. The teaching passes. The fire passes. The love passes through every generation, in every kitchen, at every stove.

Battalion Chief study continues. Jessica quizzes me at dinner, in the car, at bedtime. The exam is in April. The material is dense: advanced incident command, budget management, personnel law, department policy, strategic planning. The irony: I am studying to be a better administrator so that I can retire and open a restaurant that will require all of these administrative skills. The fire department is training me for Rivera's without knowing it.

The birria tacos are the star of this year’s cookout — no question — but thirty-plus people descend on this house with thirty-plus appetites, and the table has to hold. While I was mapping out the menu alongside the smoked mac and the wings, I kept coming back to something that could pull the same bold, Southwest flavors as everything else without demanding six hours of my attention. This South of the Border Quiche is exactly that: it carries the heat and the spirit of the spread, it slices clean for a crowd, and honestly, it’s the kind of dish Elena would nod at — recognizable flavors, good technique, no apology for being exactly what it is.

South of the Border Quiche

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 1 9-inch unbaked pie crust
  • 1 cup shredded pepper jack cheese
  • 1/2 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
  • 1 can (4 oz) diced green chiles, drained
  • 1/2 cup diced red bell pepper
  • 1/3 cup diced yellow onion
  • 4 large eggs
  • 1 1/4 cups half-and-half
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon chili powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped (plus more for garnish)
  • Sour cream and salsa, for serving

Instructions

  1. Preheat. Heat your oven to 375°F. Place the unbaked pie crust in a 9-inch pie dish and crimp the edges. Set aside.
  2. Build the base. Scatter the pepper jack and cheddar cheeses evenly across the bottom of the crust. Layer the diced green chiles, red bell pepper, and onion over the cheese.
  3. Mix the custard. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs and half-and-half until fully combined. Add the cumin, chili powder, garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and black pepper. Whisk again until smooth. Stir in the chopped cilantro.
  4. Fill and bake. Pour the egg mixture slowly and evenly over the cheese and vegetable layer in the crust. Gently press any floating pieces down with a fork so everything is submerged.
  5. Bake. Place on the center rack and bake for 40—45 minutes, until the center is just set and no longer jiggles, and the top is lightly golden. If the crust edges brown too quickly, tent them with foil after the first 20 minutes.
  6. Rest and serve. Let the quiche rest for 10 minutes before slicing — this keeps it from falling apart when you cut it. Garnish with fresh cilantro and serve with sour cream and salsa alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 290 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 430mg

Marcus Rivera
About the cook who shared this
Marcus Rivera
Week 301 of Marcus’s 30-year story · Phoenix, Arizona
Marcus is a Phoenix firefighter, a husband, a dad of two, and the kind of guy who'd hand you a plate of brisket before he'd shake your hand. He grew up watching his father Roberto grill carne asada every Sunday in the backyard, and that tradition runs through everything he cooks. He's won a couple of local BBQ competitions, built an outdoor kitchen his wife calls "the altar," and feeds his fire crew on every shift. For Marcus, cooking isn't a hobby — it's how he shows up for the people he loves.

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