Traditional Food Reigns in the Quinceañera Court

From birria on the Mexican plate to arroz con gandules for the Puerto Rican party, quince dishes have remained untouched by fads

There’s one quince look ingrained in my mind from 2006. Both twee and emo were in vogue, as my deep side-part bangs could attest, and I went to a friend’s quince wearing a mini bubble white-and-red polka dot dress from Forever 21. I was also newly a vegetarian, which meant that at a big Mexican event laden with a traditional culinary spread, I could focus on my favorites — refried beans, red rice, guacamole, and fresh maíz tortillas.

Fashion trends, fickle as they can be, are undoubtedly top of mind for a young birthday girl, especially on her birthday. But what has remained untouched by fads at these celebrations is what is served on the plate.

The quinceañera celebration as we know it — marking a girl’s transition to womanhood on her 15th birthday — has been around for nearly 200 years. Like many big celebrations in Latin America, it has food at its center, namely a feast starring the most prized, often comforting, culturally regional dishes. From birria on the Mexican plate to arroz con gandules for Puerto Rican parties, generational traditions dictate what’s on the menu.

Fernando Bañuelos of La Birria House, a birria catering company based in East LA, says that these days, he’s noticed it’s quinceañeras calling the shots, whereas before, the parents were. Surprisingly, it’s not trending TikTok dishes they’re asking for, but a traditional food from western Mexican culture: birria.

He should know: Quinces make up 70 to 85 percent of Bañuelos’s family-operated business, which caters an average of three every weekend, sometimes two on the same day. One of the events La Birria House catered this season was El Quince, a celebration of Los Angeles Nomadic Division’s (LAND) 15th anniversary. Curated by artist Anita Herrera, the event featured a nostalgic Y2K quinces theme and a menu including birria with both traditional and vegetarian options. “When you’re being served birria, you know that you’re celebrating something special, of significance,” Herrera explains.

Birria has deep roots in the western Mexican state of Jalisco, which is known for growing the blue Weber agave that produces tequila. With the Spanish colonization of Jalisco in the mid-1500s came livestock, including goats. But the goats multiplied quickly and their herds demolished crops. When the Spaniards didn’t take to goat, Indigenous groups of Jalisco took it upon themselves to resolve the goat overpopulation by transforming what can be a tough meat into a super-tender delicacy through a slow-cook in an amalgam of chiles and spices.

This delicacy has long earned a special place at regional Mexican celebrations, in and out of the States, and is most commonly seen on the West Coast. Bañuelos says the birria process is extremely laborious.

“The reason why it’s big [at quinces] is all the hard work that goes into it. It’s a specialty,” Bañuelos says. The recipe is specific, he says — his own comes from his Jalisciense mother-in-law — and each step takes time. “The marinade alone is a big process,” Bañuelos says. “Then we marinate the meat for 24 hours before cooking it, and cooking it takes about six hours.” A marinade generally consists of various dried chiles including ancho, guajillo, cascabel, or árbol depending on the region and flavors you want to impart. Fragrant spices like clove, cumin, cinnamon, and marjoram are also in the mix.

Lille Allen

Bañuelos credits the modern resonance of birria to its contemporary iterations: birria quesa tacos and ramen. Birria’s explosion in popularity and reimagination has allowed it to remain relevant to a younger generation. “It’s amazing to see them keep the tradition going,” he says.

On TikTok, people are satisfying their cravings for the Mexican quince spread at home by making the newly coined “quinceañera plates.” The dish is made with familiar suspects: Mexican red rice, birria or barbacoa (a Michoacán-style steamed or slow roasted beef or lamb), cold macaroni salad with ham, and beans de la olla (whole brothy beans). “I’m glad I’m not the only one that calls it the quinceñera plate,” one commenter wrote on a quinceañera plate recipe video (sans beans) by content creator Perla Mendoza.

This is almost exactly what Jose Rivera, the owner and operator of Standing’s Butchery, made for his Mexican Salvadoran niece’s quince: birria, cold macaroni salad, beans, and red rice. To that he added a salad bar, shredded roasted chicken, and chicken alfredo — his niece’s special request — all served with sliced white bread.

Rivera says Mexican quinces also often feature taco stands with meat options like carne asada, lengua (tongue), and cabeza (meat from the cow’s head). A familiar staple at Mexican parties in general, taco stands require no silverware, no seats, and can feed a lot of hungry mouths over a long period of time.

“Taco stands have been the most traditional [quince food] I’ve seen, and they’re unlimited; they’re there all day and all night,” Rivera says. “Every time I’ve done a quince, there’s a lot of emphasis on how much food needs to be brought and cooked, and somehow it’s never enough. I don’t know if we’re just comelones (big eaters) or what, but it always seems people want to take some food to go. It’s become a tradition.”

Andrea Lausell, a Cuban Puerto Rican disability editor, actor, and Florida native, remembers her wela (grandmother) Teresa catering her quinceañera, where no crumbs were left behind. Budget was the priority, so the event was held at home and Lausell wore a white dress that she could later reuse for her wedding. Her wela brought out plates of pernil (slow-roasted pork), Cuban paella, Puerto Rican bacalao, tostones, and bocadillo sandwiches, all served buffet-style. Though her wela considered some of these dishes, like the Cuban bocadillo (also known as bocadito) sandwiches, as “everyday” food, they were a luxury for Lausell since these were all the foods she grew up loving.

“[My wela] died three years after the quince, but my friends still bring up how delicious the food was,” Lausell recalls. “It’s something of hers I can hold onto, and she gets to live on in other people’s memories.”

Recipe developer Dinatalia Farina also hosted a family-catered quince 15 years ago in Brooklyn. She wore a red strapless, A-line dress alongside her twin, and their mom cooked a feast that Farina describes as “classic Puerto Rican holiday food.” Amongst the buffet-style offerings were roasted chicken, guineitos en escabeche (marinated green bananas), antipasto pasta salad, and arroz con gandules (rice with pigeon peas). “The rice is typically seasoned with salsa de tomate or tomato paste, sofrito, sazón, and chicken bouillon,” Farina says. “Each family does it differently.” Her own family made theirs without pork, per her mom’s preference.

Traditional holiday food was on the menu for Farina and her twin’s big night because it’s what made the most sense: Their mom knew these recipes like the back of her hand, and it was easy for her to whip up a delicious Caribbean feast while sticking to a budget.

The ending of every quinceañera celebration is, of course, cake. Even if everything else is family-made, this is the one piece that is generally outsourced. Lausell’s party featured a vanilla cake with custard cream from Publix, a Florida-based supermarket chain. Riviera’s niece had a tres leches cake and flan made by his sister’s friend.

As for me, I opted out of a quince party in exchange for a trip to New York City. And while I would never do a deep combover side-part again, I’m still a vegetarian — and in retrospect events like this quince paved the way for my own tradition: a beautiful dress, and heaps and heaps of rice and beans.

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