Cuba’s Boldest Beef Dish Is Salty, Garlicky, and Completely Underrated

The word tasajo refers to two things: dry-cured beef (typically flank or round steak) and the name of the dish it’s served in. Its origins trace back to early preservation techniques, when meat was cured heavily with salt and sun-dried to last without refrigeration. The result is bold and intense: unapologetically salty, rich in umami, and distinctly fibrous.

Tasajo is deeply rooted in Cuban cuisine, but has variations across Latin America. In Cuba, the salted and dried steak is rehydrated and then cooked—either fried until crisp and chewy or simmered in tomato sauce until tender.

It’s one of those dishes that sparks conversation and mixed reactions—sometimes delight, sometimes hesitation, but always curiosity. In my Cuban family, it was a dish reserved for special occasions—or whenever my mom happened to spot the cured beef on sale at the market. I knew to brace myself for the rich, salty, meaty aroma and the inevitable question from the kitchen once it was ready: “¿Quién lo quiere frito y quién lo quiere en salsa?” (Who wants it fried and who wants it in sauce?). My answer was always both, which is why I’ve included directions for pan-frying the shredded beef and simmering it in tomato sauce in my recipe below.

Where to Buy Tasajo

Tasajo isn’t available in every US grocery store, but you can usually find it in Latin markets, especially in cities with large Caribbean or Central American communities. In Miami, where I live, it’s a staple—sold either in the refrigerated meat section or, sometimes, unrefrigerated in sealed bags.

If you’re not near a Latin grocer, online retailers often carry it. Look for cured beef labeled tasajo or cecina de res (a related product, though thinner and sometimes smoked). When buying tasajo, inspect the cut if possible: Leaner cuts, such as flank steak, are ideal, as they rehydrate more quickly and evenly and yield a toothsome but not tough result.

Tasajo’s Distinct Flavor and Texture

At first bite, tasajo announces itself: It’s salty, meaty, and loaded with flavor that can only come from centuries of food preservation know-how. It’s not the kind of beef that melts into shreds like ropa vieja or short ribs—tasajo holds its shape and resists the fork just enough to make every bite satisfying.

Across Latin America, the term “tasajo” varies in meaning. In Oaxaca, for example, tasajo refers to a thin-sliced cured beef that’s typically grilled and served with tlayudas or topped with salsa. In Cuba, tasajo is always cured and then rehydrated before being seared or simmered. Tasajo wasn’t an everyday dish in my household growing up. It’s prep took time—first trimming, then soaking or boiling, and finally resting before frying. It also carries a bit of family lore. Historically, it was sometimes made from horsemeat—an origin that still causes some folks to raise an eyebrow today (though rest assured, what’s sold now is beef). Still, that past is enough for some to steer clear. For instance, my sister refused to eat it for years because of it’s origin story, and once she finally tried it as an adult, realized she liked it.

I’ve included both traditional Cuban preparations for tasajo in my recipe below: one in which the meat is pan-fried and the other in which it is simmered. Fried tasajo is crisp and chewy, with edges that brown and curl in the skillet. In sauce, it softens and soaks up the sweetness of tomatoes and sautéed aromatics. Both methods are deeply satisfying in different ways, and both begin with the same soaking technique to transform the tough, cured cut into something tender and flavorful.

Soaking and Marinating the Meat

Traditional recipes often call for an overnight soak of the cured meat to rehydrate it and draw out excess salt that otherwise would make it inedible. While this method works, I wanted to streamline the process without sacrificing flavor or texture. So I tested a few variations:

• Overnight soak in cold water (classic method)
• Rinse in hot water + boil, changing the water once + marinate
• Soak + refrigerate in onion and garlic marinade post-boil

Ultimately, I found that the second method—massaging the beef under hot (120°F) water, followed by boiling it in two rounds of fresh water—removed just as much salt and rehydrated the meat just as effectively as soaking it overnight. Then, instead of soaking, I rested the cooked beef overnight in a mixture of sliced onions, garlic, lime juice, and black pepper. This rest period in the lime juice allows the acidic mixture to tenderize the tough meat. While tasajo won’t ever shred as effortlessly as ropa vieja, the overnight marination gives it a texture that’s pleasantly chewy without being tough.

Handling Tasajo at Home: Tips for Success

While I grew up eating and cooking this Cuban beef delicacy, I recognize not everyone is familiar with preparing this cured beef. Here is some advice when cooking it.

Gloves make a difference. Since the cured beef is salty and sticky, I recommend using disposable gloves to make the process of removing the outer salt and fat layer easier and cleaner. I also recommend using them when shredding the beef post-boil.

Keep an eye on saltiness. Even after soaking and boiling, tasajo can still pack a salty punch. That’s normal—and part of its flavor profile. But if it still tastes too assertive after boiling, a quick rinse under cool water can help dial it back.

Don’t expect short rib texture. This meat is naturally lean and tough. It will never be buttery soft, and that’s OK. After frying or stewing, tasajo becomes pleasantly tender, while holding onto a slight chew that makes it feel substantial.

How to Serve Tasajo

Whether fried until deeply browned or simmered in tomato sauce with garlic and peppers, tasajo delivers maximum flavor with humble ingredients. Its richness and saltiness pair beautifully with simple sides and a squeeze of lime. It’s often served alongside steamed white rice, Cuban black beans, and something sweet and starchy to balance the salt—boiled, roasted, or mashed boniatos (Cuban sweet potatoes) are traditional, but sweet plantains make an excellent stand-in if boniatos aren’t available.

Tasajo may not be the most famous cured beef in the culinary world, but for those who grew up with it—or for curious cooks looking to explore traditional Cuban flavors—it’s absolutely worth the effort. It’s a dish that carries history in every bite: from the preservation traditions of colonial Cuba to the family kitchens of Miami and beyond. With a few thoughtful tweaks to the traditional method, this recipe makes tasajo approachable and delicious for modern kitchens, whether you’re revisiting a childhood favorite or trying it for the first time.

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