Birrieria Ocotlan's location on South Commercial Ave. in Chicago
By Natalia Otero
Since 1973, Birria Ocotlan has kept alive in Chicago a culinary tradition that began in Ocotlán, Jalisco, and has been passed down from generation to generation within the Reyes family. Andrés Reyes, representing the fourth generation, took over the family restaurant and today seeks to preserve his father’s legacy: a recipe perfected over decades, a technique adapted to serve a large number of customers, and a close relationship with the South Side Chicago community.
For Reyes, the restaurant is much more than a business. It is the result of the work of his great-grandfather, his grandfather, and his father, but also a legacy that connects his personal history with that of a community that has stood by the family for more than half a century.
El Restaurante: What is the origin of Birria Ocotlan?
Andrés Reyes: Birria Ocotlan is a restaurant that opened in 1973. It all began with my great-grandfather, Tereso Reyes, in Ocotlán, Jalisco. He taught his children and other family members how to prepare birria and to follow the same steps to preserve the recipe.
One of the family's restaurants in Ocotlan, Jalisco, 1980
Then came my grandfather, Andrés Reyes, and my dad, Ramón Reyes, who brought that tradition to Chicago. He perfected the technique and adapted the process so we could prepare larger quantities without losing the flavor.
I’m the fourth generation. Currently, I work in an office that my dad used to call the lab. He called it that because of the aromas coming from the spices we used.
We work with large quantities. We can use a whole drum of spices in a single week. My dad would prepare that blend of aromas and then turn it into a liquid that we used for the consommé and our hot sauces. It was part of his technique—something he developed over time.
What was it like to receive that family legacy? Was it always clear to you that you were going to work in the restaurant business?
I went to college. I studied Political Science and Latin American Studies. Before that, I had attended a private Catholic high school; I played a lot of sports, and my dad wanted me to study.
Actually, when I was in college, I wasn’t too worried about what I’d do afterward. I was interested in learning and discovering new things, but I wasn’t necessarily thinking about the job I’d have after graduation.
I didn’t even go to the graduation ceremony. For me, it was just like any other day.
However, when I was 18, my dad started teaching me the business. I’d go over on the weekends to learn from him. He used to tell me that, if it were up to him, I probably wouldn’t have gone to college and would have jumped right into the restaurant business, but he was glad I’d had that education.
What advice did your father give you that you’d share today with someone who wants to open a restaurant?
The business is very difficult. My dad always told me, “If the mountain won’t come to you, go to the mountain.”
I interpret that phrase as an invitation to take action, to have the right attitude, and not to just sit around waiting for things to happen on their own. When you have a goal, you have to work hard to achieve it. Then other goals will come along, and you’ll have to work hard again to reach them.
My dad told me this not only in relation to the restaurant, but also to life in general.
To anyone who wants to start a business, I’d say it’s not easy. But if life were easy, we’d all be doing the same thing. I believe the reward comes when you focus on something and commit 100 percent.
What does it mean to you to take over a business with such a long family history?
This tradition sustains me; it allows me to pay my employees and provide for my family. It’s a huge responsibility.
I’m 38 years old. I’m the youngest of four siblings—I have three sisters. My mom and my sisters watched as my dad started the business and saw it grow. In fact, the restaurant is practically the same age as my oldest sister.
Before he passed away on September 13, 2024, my dad entrusted me with “taking care of his girls,” as he put it. That is, my mom, my sisters, and the restaurant. I had been running it since February 2022, but for me, having him give me that responsibility was very meaningful. It was his way of telling me he trusted me.
Now that I have my own family—a 9-month-old baby—I feel like everything has come full circle.
How has the secret recipe been passed down within the family over the generations?
My great-grandfather had about 12 children, and they all learned how to make birria. We’re talking about a very different era in Mexico, during the Porfiriato (the period when dictator Porfirio Diáz ruled Mexico, 1876-1911).
Ramón Reyes, Herlinda Reyes, and their daughters Ivoni, Teresa, and Verónica.
In the family, there were lawyers, architects, doctors, priests, and people in various other professions, but they all learned to make birria. The tradition didn’t depend on whether someone was a professional chef. It was something passed down within the family.
Over time, some moved to places like Veracruz and Tijuana, and each prepared their own version of birria.
My grandfather, on the other hand, had only one son: my dad. Other brothers of my grandfather started their own families, and many stayed in Ocotlán, Jalisco. I still have aunts there who sell birria, and a second cousin.
There’s a saying in our family that we used to hear in Ocotlán, and it sums it all up: “Birria belongs to the Reyes.”
In my case, my sisters went to school and pursued their own careers. One is a teacher, and the others also devoted themselves to their families and jobs. I was the one who ended up getting fully involved in the restaurant.
I realized that what my dad had created was extraordinary. From my perspective, he’d come up with the perfect recipe. Seeing that people continued to enjoy it made me appreciate his work even more.
Tell us about that recipe that began with your great-grandfather and was perfected by your father. What makes it special?
We use between 20 and 30 spices. I’ll just say that the blend includes ingredients like chocolate and cinnamon.
We work with dried spices; we put them in a bowl, mix them, and then process them in a blender with water, more spices, and other liquid ingredients. It’s a preparation that requires a good understanding of the proportions and how each ingredient behaves.
Our main dish is birria. We don’t sell many different items. We also have tacos made with tongue, head, and cheek, but our specialty is goat birria.
If you go to a birria restaurant in Ocotlán, you’ll find a simple menu. The food takes center stage.
My great-grandfather created the foundation of the recipe, and my dad adapted it so it would keep longer and the process would be more efficient.
To me, my dad was a genius. He managed to perfect the recipe, saved us time, and enabled us to sell in volume.
You now have two restaurants, both in South Chicago. What does the South Chicago community mean to you, and how has it influenced the restaurant’s history?
I’m very grateful to South Chicago.
My dad was from Ocotlán, Jalisco, and when he arrived in Chicago, the community welcomed him with open arms. For him, this place became a second home.
My parents used to travel to Mexico three or four times a year. I go about once a year. However, it’s here in Chicago where we’ve built our lives.
I remember that when my dad would return to the restaurant after being in Mexico, he’d say, “We’re back at Birria! I missed you so much!” For many people, this place is also a second home.
Chicago welcomed my dad, my mom, our birria, and our whole family. Here we found a community that allowed us to grow.
That’s something I’ll never forget. When I was 15 or 16, I’d see people coming in with their children. Now I’m 38, and those same people come back with their grandchildren or their extended families. Some of those customers are now around 70 years old.
The restaurant wouldn’t have made it this far without the people who have kept coming back over the years—who brought their children and now come with their own families.
There are Sundays when we serve about 500 people. Sometimes I look at the line and start thinking about everything that’s happened since my dad started this place.
I wouldn’t want to turn Birria Ocotlan into a franchise. This belongs to my dad and also to all the people who have supported us for so many years. If we became a franchise, I’d worry about losing the flavor and the tradition.
Andrés Reyes