The answer, unfortunately, is not in Portland. But I got addicted to it — to birria, the fiery goat stew that’s supposed to have originated in Jalisco — when I lived in Brooklyn. There was a little birrieria down the street from my apartment off the Lorimer stop of the L. I’d go there, often, a little drunk, on the way back from the city at 1am.
I love you, Chicago. Not only because Michael Heck made this incredible poster for the book release party — tonight! — at The Whistler. But also because, two blocks from my B&B, I saw this sign. Goat stew! I said. And I bought a large order to go.
It was delicious. Cilantro and onion, diced. Dried serrano peppers. Steaming hot tortillas that burned my fingers when I opened the foil. Terrific salsa. And the stew, itself. Greasy heaven.
I may or may not be serving goat stew tonight at the reading.