Robert Barajas Jr. wakes up every morning at 2 a.m. to start making birria horneada — “ovened,” he says. “We used to make it in the ground, now we use conventional ovens in order to have that crispy taste.” It is never simmered, adds Barajas. His father started the business several years ago, serving birria de chivo much the way the family has been making it for three generations in Tecalitlán, Jalisco. Birrieria Barajas opened first as a puesto on Compton Boulevard and then launched a truck across the street, parked in front of Eddie’s Liquor every day but Monday, beginning at 6:30 a.m.

“When we started we wouldn’t even sell half a goat,” Barajas says. “By word of mouth and faith we started to get going week by week. There are a lot of people that make birria. But it has to be goat, and it’s supposed to have your special mole, a kind of rub, your own recipe. Maybe that’s why we have good clientele, because we make the rub, everything, every day.”

The most popular order is the plato birria de chivo con pistola, a bowl of the spicy, fall-off-the-bone goat meat bathed in consomé that comes with a shank and tortillas, onions, cilantro, radishes, chiles and lime wedges for composing your own tacos. Of course there are regular tacos, and there are tacos dorados, folded and fried, with cheese if you want quesabirria. Every order comes with a complimentary small fried bean taco, and the beans are a recipe from Barajas’ grandmother, who died earlier this year. “My grandmother told my dad to ‘give customers a nice gesture,’” Barajas says. And once a month Barajas Sr. still prepares montalayo, a fried ball of goat stomach with sausage-like tripe stuffing; order it chopped into a taco.