By Natalia Otero
In Nashville, the aroma of slow-cooked birria often signals something more than just a good meal. It signals the presence of Birria Babe—a food truck built from passion, persistence, and the deeply personal vision of its founder, Nadine Moore.
For five years, Moore has served tacos inspired by the rich culinary traditions of Veracruz, Mexico, building a devoted following not only for her food but also for the generosity and warmth she brings to every interaction. Yet behind the vibrant truck and loyal community is a story marked by upheaval, courage, and a relentless commitment to feeding people well.
For Moore, cooking has always been something deeper than a profession. It is a ritual, a form of care, and increasingly, a way of building community. But the past year has reminded her how fragile even the most carefully built life can be. Recently, that resilience was tested once again.
When the Storm Took Everything
Earlier this year, a major storm in Nashville flooded Moore’s home. The timing could not have been worse. Her lease was already ending at the end of February, and moving had not been part of the plan.
Nadine Moore and Eddy Ceas
For more than a month, Moore and her husband, Eddy Ceas, were forced to stop working while they searched for a new home. For a small business run by just two people, the closure was devastating.
“My husband and I make everything from scratch. We don’t have employees,” she says. “That money we usually earn keeps everything going.”
Yet something unexpected happened when she shared the situation with her community. At first, Moore tried to handle the crisis quietly. Asking for help did not come naturally to her. But when word spread about what had happened, the response from the community was overwhelming.
“When I said publicly what happened with the house, a lot of people sent messages to help,” she recalls. “People told me how my food and my kindness had impacted them.”
A GoFundMe campaign began circulating among customers and supporters. The contributions helped Moore and Ceas pay bills while their truck remained closed.
“I’m glad I did, because I didn’t realize how much impact I had on people. I was really scared to start over,” Moore admits. “But people reminded me that I’m doing this for the people I love feeding.” And then she pauses. “I didn’t know they loved me back.”
A Life in Motion
In many ways, Moore’s life has always been about movement.
Born in a military hospital in Germany, she grew up traveling constantly.
“Every two years I had a new home,” she says.
By the time she reached adulthood, she had lived across Europe and the United States, including ten different states.
“You grow up experiencing different cultures,” she explains. “You see that the world is very big.”
That upbringing sparked a curiosity about food and culture that would shape her career.
After studying culinary arts in Jacksonville, Florida, Moore moved to New York City and began working her way up through the restaurant industry, building a résumé that crossed some of the country’s most dynamic food cities.
In New York, she worked at restaurants such as Boqueria, Dumont Burger, and Xixa, learning both kitchen craft and the rhythms of fast-paced hospitality.
Her career then took her to Atlanta’s Studio 7, and later to Chicago, where she worked at acclaimed restaurants including Bavette’s Bar & Boeuf and Green Street Smoked Meats.
Over the years, Moore moved through nearly every role in the industry—from line cook to leadership positions, even serving as a corporate trainer for restaurant groups.
“I learned from the bottom up,” she says. “Different cuisines, different types of restaurants.”
Cooking as Meditation
For Moore, cooking has always been something deeply personal.
Birria Babe specializes in Veracruz-style birria, a version she felt was missing in Nashville when she first arrived seven years ago.
“I love birria, and I tried all the places here,” she says. “But most were Tijuana style. I never experienced Veracruz-style birria in Nashville.”
Her approach became an act of research and devotion. “I studied recipes, I went to Veracruz and did some workshops, and I hybridized theirs’ with my own versions” she explains.
Unlike many American interpretations that focus only on beef, Moore works with meats closer to traditional recipes.
“Here they usually make birria with beef,” she says. “But I knew the borrego—the lamb—was what I loved. It was very important to bring those traditional meats to Nashville.”
The preparation process is long and deliberate. “I cook overnight,” she says. “From around 10 at night until 2 am, and then I have everything ready by eight in the morning.”
She likes those quiet night hours. “It’s kind of like meditating with the food,” she explains. “I enjoy doing it. I’m excited to make it.”
Every element—from the crispy tortillas to the rich consommé—is designed with care. “I make happy food,” she says. “Quality is very important.”
Freedom on Four Wheels
Ironically, Birria Babe began during one of the most uncertain moments of Moore’s life.
Five years ago, she was working in restaurant management when the COVID-19 pandemic devastated the hospitality industry.
“I lost my job because they couldn’t afford to keep me,” she says. “I had never been fired before. It upset me a lot.”
Her husband was also struggling with work, and the experience left Moore questioning the security of traditional employment.
“I felt insecure working for other people,” she says. But the setback also reminded her of an old dream.
“When I was 16, I always wanted a food truck,” she explains. “But it seemed too hard, too much logistics. I was too intimidated.”
Losing her job changed that perspective. “That experience showed me that I could do something different.”
She bought a trailer and launched the business largely on her own. While many chefs dream of opening large restaurants, Moore remains drawn to the freedom of the food truck.
“The food truck is true freedom,” she says. Each event brings something new—parks, festivals, neighborhood gatherings. “There’s no monotony,” she explains.
What matters most, though, is the closeness between chef and customer. “There’s nothing between me, my food, and you,” Moore says. That direct exchange—handing someone a taco and hearing their reaction immediately—is part of what first attracted her to cooking.
Birria Babe as a Living Thing
Over time, Moore began to realize that Birria Babe meant more to people than just a meal.
One day after the storm, a customer who wanted to donate told her a touching story: When she had been struggling financially, Moore put some extra food into her bag. That small gesture meant a great deal to her because she hadn’t known when she would have her next meal.
Another customer told her that Moore’s pineapple chipotle sauce helped her eat during a difficult period in her life when she had an eating disorder.
“She said it was the only thing that made her want to eat,” Moore says.
Moments like those have given deeper meaning to the long hours and constant pressure of running a small business.
Moore often speaks about her business as if it were a person. “I don’t have children,” she says. “I always wanted my business to be my child.”
Birria Babe, in her mind, has its own identity. “She’s my babe,” Moore says with a smile.
That emotional connection shapes every detail—from recipes to the way customers are treated. Even today, she remains deeply involved in every part of the operation.
A Return and a Celebration
Now, after the storm that forced Birria Babe to pause, Moore is preparing for a comeback. On March 21, she reopened with a celebration called the “Welcome Back Babe Party.” The event featured 15 women vendors—artists, small businesses, and creators—many of whom were also affected by the storm.
“I want[ed] different kinds of women,” Moore says. “Some doing tattoos, tooth gems, candles, clothing.”
For her, the gathering was about solidarity.
“People have different stories about how they were affected by the storm,” she says. “We want to come back stronger together.”
It is a philosophy that reflects Moore’s entire journey: resilience through connection, hardship answered with generosity. After everything she has experienced—the constant moves of childhood, the loss of a job during a pandemic, the destruction of her home in a flood—her motivation remains simple.
“I just love feeding people,” she says.
And in Nashville, thousands of customers have come to feel that love in return.
Recipe: Birria Babe's Birria Tamales
Masa ingredients
1lb bag masa para tamales
3.5 T salt
3 T baking powder
1 pint warm Birria Fat
1 pint warm consume
1.5 qt warm water as needed
Other ingredients
Precooked Lamb Birria
Oaxaca Cheese
Corn Husks (washed and soaked in warm water)
Mix masa, baking powder, and salt in a bowl. Add warm Birria Fat, warm Consume, and 1/2 warm water. Whip together adding the additional warm water as needed to get a soft spreadable consistency. Once masa is mixed rest for 10 minutes covered with a moist towel.
Once the masa is rested you can assemble your tamales. Spread about a tablespoon of masa on a corn husk. In the middle place your cheese and Birria meat. Fold the tamales and set aside until all assemble. Once all tamales are complete steam them for 1 hour. Make sure to not run out of water during the steaming process. Enjoy your tamales with a side of consume for the full Birria tamale experience!