Birria Queen

Where Shank & Bône built reliability around pho and Olympic locked in four decades of phyllo consistency, Birria Queen operates on food-truck rules: amazing when you catch it, maddening when you don't. This is proper Tijuana-style birria—the kind where consommé arrives dark and fatty, tortillas get crisped on the plancha until edges shatter, and quesabirrias come loaded with enough melted cheese to justify the structural engineering. Regulars swear it's the best birria north of the border, the move that makes driving to TJ unnecessary. The problem is knowing whether the truck will actually be there.

The operation lives in the hit-or-miss zone that defines mobile food: no set hours listed, a Facebook page that sometimes announces closures weeks late, a phone number that reportedly routes to someone's kid instead of the business. When it's on, you get tuétano, tortas, tacos dorados that crunch right, and chilaquiles that feel like Sunday breakfast done correctly. When it's off, you've burned gas for nothing.

This isn't a spot for planned dinners or reliable weeknight takeout—it's for locals who live close enough to cruise by and check, who've learned to screenshot the truck's location when they see it, who treat finding it open as a minor North Park victory. If you catch Birria Queen during business hours, order the quesabirrias, get extra consommé, and understand you've just participated in the neighborhood's most unpredictable but worthwhile food-truck lottery.