Paula Disbrowe
Paula Disbrowe

Paula Disbrowe

Paula Disbrowe writes about the endless adventure of food and travel. She has written or co-written seven cookbooks, including Food52 Any Night Grilling. Her next book, Thank You For Smoking, will be published by Ten Speed in March. Her first book, Cowgirl Cuisine, chronicles the adventure of leaving New York City to cook on a ranch in The Texas Hill Country. She lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband David Norman, children Flannery and Wyatt, a menagerie of animals, and a growing collection of grills and smokers.
Queso Flameado
Rating: Unrated
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In this irresistible snack, charred poblano pepper and pureed cilantro and serrano chiles serve as a built-in salsa, layering spicy, garlicky flavors into the rich, melted cheese. Flaming it with tequila makes the whole thing a little extra. The pickled carrots on top add acidity and brightness; feel free to substitute pickled jalapeno slices if you have some on-hand.
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If you're tired of scorched chicken skin and nearly raw middles, listen up. This simple method delivers a perfect bird every time.
Everyone loves the smoky taste of freshly-grilled chicken, but is cooking the chicken directly on the grates really the best way to go? This hybrid skillet-on-the-grill method lets you capture all the delicious juices that the bird gives off as it cooks, while still allowing the chicken to absorb plenty of barbecue flavor. Smoky charcoal, plus the rich, deep notes of smoked paprika and chipotle chile, add plenty of depth, achiote paste delivers a seductive red color to the meat, and a bed of rosemary adds that irresistible flavor. A final brilliant touch? Thick slices of grilled bread to serve alongside, ready to sop up all those beyond-wonderful juices.
For the last few years, I’ve taught a gardening class at my kids’ elementary school. There are few things more satisfying than planting seeds and seedlings with children and watching the tiny sprouts transform into towering Moulin Rouge sunflowers, juicy cherry tomatoes, and sweet peas suspended on a trellis for the snacking.The weekly afternoon class always seemed to arrive at an inconvenient time. I’d have a few minutes to race to the greenhouse, pack up a wheelbarrow with kid-sized garden gloves and tools, and speed to our designated plot, making up the lesson along the way. I typically felt harried and foolish for signing up for something that made my day more fractured. At least, that’s how I’d feel before the class. But each and every time, a bit of magic would happen that would leave me smiling, like watching kids devour radishes they’d grown themselves (on baguettes slathered with butter and sprinkled with flaky salt) or judging who had harvested the fattest champion carrot. On those warm spring days, it was a blessing to get to buzz around outdoors for 30 minutes and to see the green and growing world through the eyes of the kids.Despite my best efforts, I could never quite get the kids to embrace one of my favorite spring bloomers—artichokes. Have you seen their spectacular purple flowers? The spiky blooms earned a few oohs of admiration, but they failed to rouse the children's appetites like basil leaves or snap peas. In fact, the kids had a hard time believing the weird-looking plant could become anything delicious. An edible member of the thistle family, artichokes have an otherworldly beauty and an ancient pedigree (artichokes were beloved by ancient Greeks and Romans). Like most truly special things, they require a bit of effort to enjoy, but the resulting spring feast is entirely worth it. Artichokes transform any meal into a luxurious occasion.Artichokes are at their best—and easiest to prepare—when cooked quickly over a hot fire, particularly when served with luscious lemon aioli made with the smoky juices and pulp of grilled lemons. You can serve the creamy dressing on the side for dipping, but I prefer to toss it with the artichokes so it seeps into every crack and crevice. With grilled slices of my husband’s levain, one artichoke per person makes a meal at our house, along with a bottle or two of your favorite pink wine, of course!
Although there have been sweltering exceptions, the end of October usually signals a break in the Texas heat. For me, that means the season of campfires, cashmere, knee-high boots, and Halloween has officially arrived. As luck would have it, our neighborhood in Austin hosts a parade that starts a few blocks from our house. Like our swelling city, the parade has grown over the last few years, resulting in an increasing number of superheroes, mermaids, and parents pulling wagons of witches and bumblebees who stop at our door. And while I love to whip up spooky snacks for the kids (like a skeleton-shaped crudité or various treats spiked with gummy worms), I love including the adults in the fun.The parade starts early, and it’s always a scramble to get kids home from school and into costumes. Our location makes us a natural home base for last-minute flourishes and pre-parade happy hour. Friends arrive with kids already jacked up on candy from school parties, and attempt to add face paint, adjust wigs, and dole out swords and magic wands. To help diffuse the anxiety of these harried parents, I like to whip up a special adults-only punch that takes a cue from palomas—the margarita’s more refreshing cousin.In this Grilled Pineapple–Tequila Punch, the sweet and smoky notes of grilled pineapple meld deliciously with tequila, Ancho Reyes Verde (a spicy, crisp poblano liqueur), and splashes of pineapple and lime juices to create a punch that’s the perfect Halloween equalizer. You can make this recipe as easy as you like, and use store-bought pineapple juice if you want to skip the grill. If you do, I like to avoid canned pineapple juice and seek out cold-pressed juice (and, of course, I still use freshly squeezed limes). Mint sprigs complement the fruit and green vegetal notes of the chile, adding that extra level of festive fragrance. And if you happen to have a heat wave, you can even freeze slices of jalapeño in ice cubes to keep the punch nice and cool. But let’s cross our fingers and hope for a lovely cold snap, shall we?
Grill-Baked Apple Galette
Rating: Unrated
1
Being a gal who lives on the rustic side of life (mismatched dishware, Mason jar centerpieces, a general disregard for fussiness), fruit galettes have long been my go-to desserts. I love how you can roll the crust into a haphazard circle, top it with a heap of the season’s best fruit (lightly sweetened, casually spiced), flop over the ragged edges, and bake something wildly fragrant, bubbly, and downright gorgeous.Because I’m somewhat obsessed about making the most of my fire and the lingering heat that a bed of embers provides, lately I’ve been baking galettes on the grill. I love how a chimney of charcoal can carry you through cocktails (see charred citrus margaritas) to dinner to dessert. It’s easier than it sounds, particularly when you think about working your grill as an oven (e.g. grill-roasted chicken). Just as a chicken benefits from the unique “charred” flavor of charcoal, so do fruit and pastry. The first time I grill-baked this tart, I slid the parchment onto a pizza stone. I should have realized that the concentrated heat would blacken the bottom of the crust before the fruit had time to cook—and it did. Now I drape the pastry into a lavishly buttered cast-iron skillet or enamel-coated baking dish, and the results are perfect (with the added bonus of not heating up my kitchen).When the berry conga line of summer transitions to fall, it’s apples that capture my attention—particularly thin-skinned varieties like Pink Lady that don’t need peeling (their skins have a snappy cider flavor). I’ve loved the combination of black pepper and pastry since I bit into the pepper-flecked flaky apple tart at Poilâine in Paris. The subtle warmth shoots through the buttery crust (and caramel sweetness of the fruit) like a swallow of Cognac on a winter day. Here I use pink peppercorns, which have a more delicate floral flavor. There’s no shame in embracing the color motif (what’s life without whimsy?) so in addition to those Pink Lady apples I also use Himalayan pink salt, but feel free to swap in another sweet-tart fall apple variety and your favorite fancy salt.
It’s not the sort of meal you make and serve with a casual shrug: Preparing a whole duck for dinner is an occasion—and a gesture of generosity and serious sentiment. Duck is my dad’s favorite thing to eat and something he rarely splurges on when dining out, so every summer I smoke one for him as his Father’s Day gift (and round out the evening with a couple of great bottles of Pinot Noir).Before I started relying on my trusty PK Grill to fire up dinner multiple times a week, preparing duck at home was a daunting process. I fretted about splattering fat and overcooking and drying out the meat. When I made gumbo, I relied on my local Asian grocery for a roasted duck (something I still recommend in a pinch).But grill-roasting a duck is as easy as a chicken (particularly when you use an instant-read thermometer to gauge doneness), and the deeply flavored results are as satisfying as anything you can get in a restaurant. Because the smoke provides its own seasoning, you don’t need to add much more to the equation. I usually season the bird with a warm, peppery mix of pink and black peppercorns and salt. Before trussing, I insert a shallot and fresh herbs in the cavity (feel free to add garlic or a quartered satsuma to the mix) to perfume the meat, and I coat the skin with a splash of Maggi Seasoning sauce (a trick to enhance the umami flavors).Part of duck’s appeal, of course, is its flavorful fat. So, when I smoke duck over indirect heat I capture the rewards of that slow roast by cooking something else underneath. In this case, a cast-iron skillet of potatoes crisp and become tender under a steady baste of rendering duck fat. Afterwards, I balance the hearty meat-and-potatoes mix with a pile of peppery greens like frisée that have been lightly dressed with red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, and olive oil. The combination is both rustic and refined, and surprisingly time-efficient—a griller’s version of a one-dish wonder.By the time I carve the gorgeously bronzed bird, my dad and I have certainly enjoyed a glass or two of that Pinot and a couple of hours together on lawn chairs in the driveway, trading memories and favorite stories from my childhood. In that way, my gesture is actually a gift to myself, because smoking a duck provides a hall pass to be still, to appreciate the pleasures of the moment, and to enjoy the wafting aromas of the meal to come.
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Smoked Fish Brunch Board
Rating: Unrated
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Each summer, we escape the Texas heat to visit my parents in Minnesota. Most of that time is spent at their place “up north” on the shores of Leech Lake. The massive body of cold water is a mecca for walleye fisherman, but for me, it’s all about the cool nights and loon watching. In the evenings, we set out in my dad’s boat across the smooth, dark water in search of a quiet bay and, if we’re lucky, Minnesota’s state bird. The black-and-white-speckled birds descend from the sky, cast a wary red eye as they drift past, and—quicker than a sneeze—slip under water in search of prey. Loons have various calls, including an alarming tremolo that sounds like maniacal laughter, short hoots, and a wild yodel meant to guard their territory. The Holy Grail, however, is a long, hauntingly beautiful wail that drifts across the evening like a prayer.In addition to hoodie weather, rousing cornhole tournaments, and time with my family, my other favorite lake tradition is lazy, smoked-fish brunches. In addition to Bloody Marys (lavishly garnished with pickled vegetables and a beef stick) and craft beers from Duluth, the star of the spread is smoked fish. Because I’m fussy about ingredients and the cooking process (fresh fish and a light hand with the smoke) I much prefer to smoke it at home. The fish couldn’t be easier to prepare: It’s brushed with olive oil and lightly seasoned with salt, pepper, and a pinch of heat. You don’t want to mask the fish’s delicate flavor with a carpet of spice rub here. I top the fish with sprigs of fresh dill or thyme and then smoke it over indirect heat for about 20 minutes. The ambient heat of the covered grill causes the herb sprigs to meld to the fish and perfume it with a lovely flavor.When it comes to rounding out the board, you can be as simple or lavish as you wish. Lemon wedges, caperberries, cornichons, chopped red onion, sturdy seeded crackers, and sour cream flavored with a spoonful or two of prepared horseradish are essential in my book. Chopped hard-cooked eggs, radishes, cheeses (creamy and aged), and a crunchy cucumber salad (splashed with cider vinegar and olive oil) are other welcome additions. Ideally, the meal will stretch well into the afternoon, until the light begins to fade and the time is right for more loon song.
Perfect Smoked Pork Ribs
Rating: Unrated
New!
If you're looking for a show-stopping rib recipe for your next big summer barbecue or cookout, look no further than this oven-baked smoked pork rib recipe. Smoking then baking ribs yields meltingly tender, deeply flavored ribs that are incredibly satisfying to eat—moist and meaty, with a texture that's tender but not falling off the bone. To make them, begin with a dry rub of warm red spices and gochugaru (Korean red chile flakes), which adds peppery heat that's the perfect partner for the natural sweetness of pork.The ribs start over a two-zone charcoal fire perfumed with a few wood chunks. After the ribs have absorbed a couple of hours of smoke, they're wrapped in foil and parchment and finished in the oven, where the low heat allows the meat to gently braise in the seasoned juices. These ribs are perfect for barbecues, delicious eaten out of hand with hot sauce or a touch of barbecue sauce, but great on their own, too. This Memphis-style rib recipe relies on St. Louis–style spareribs, but the method works for any rack.
It’s not the sort of meal you make and serve with a casual shrug: Preparing a whole duck for dinner is an occasion—and a gesture of generosity and serious sentiment. Duck is my dad’s favorite thing to eat and something he rarely splurges on when dining out, so every summer I smoke one for him as his Father’s Day gift (and round out the evening with a couple of great bottles of Pinot Noir).Before I started relying on my trusty PK Grill to fire up dinner multiple times a week, preparing duck at home was a daunting process. I fretted about splattering fat and overcooking and drying out the meat. When I made gumbo, I relied on my local Asian grocery for a roasted duck (something I still recommend in a pinch).But grill-roasting a duck is as easy as a chicken (particularly when you use an instant-read thermometer to gauge doneness), and the deeply flavored results are as satisfying as anything you can get in a restaurant. Because the smoke provides its own seasoning, you don’t need to add much more to the equation. I usually season the bird with a warm, peppery mix of pink and black peppercorns and salt. Before trussing, I insert a shallot and fresh herbs in the cavity (feel free to add garlic or a quartered satsuma to the mix) to perfume the meat, and I coat the skin with a splash of Maggi Seasoning sauce (a trick to enhance the umami flavors).Part of duck’s appeal, of course, is its flavorful fat. So, when I smoke duck over indirect heat I capture the rewards of that slow roast by cooking something else underneath. In this case, a cast-iron skillet of potatoes crisp and become tender under a steady baste of rendering duck fat. Afterwards, I balance the hearty meat-and-potatoes mix with a pile of peppery greens like frisée that have been lightly dressed with red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, and olive oil. The combination is both rustic and refined, and surprisingly time-efficient—a griller’s version of a one-dish wonder.By the time I carve the gorgeously bronzed bird, my dad and I have certainly enjoyed a glass or two of that Pinot and a couple of hours together on lawn chairs in the driveway, trading memories and favorite stories from my childhood. In that way, my gesture is actually a gift to myself, because smoking a duck provides a hall pass to be still, to appreciate the pleasures of the moment, and to enjoy the wafting aromas of the meal to come.
Smoked Fish Brunch Board
Rating: Unrated
New!
Each summer, we escape the Texas heat to visit my parents in Minnesota. Most of that time is spent at their place “up north” on the shores of Leech Lake. The massive body of cold water is a mecca for walleye fisherman, but for me, it’s all about the cool nights and loon watching. In the evenings, we set out in my dad’s boat across the smooth, dark water in search of a quiet bay and, if we’re lucky, Minnesota’s state bird. The black-and-white-speckled birds descend from the sky, cast a wary red eye as they drift past, and—quicker than a sneeze—slip under water in search of prey. Loons have various calls, including an alarming tremolo that sounds like maniacal laughter, short hoots, and a wild yodel meant to guard their territory. The Holy Grail, however, is a long, hauntingly beautiful wail that drifts across the evening like a prayer.In addition to hoodie weather, rousing cornhole tournaments, and time with my family, my other favorite lake tradition is lazy, smoked-fish brunches. In addition to Bloody Marys (lavishly garnished with pickled vegetables and a beef stick) and craft beers from Duluth, the star of the spread is smoked fish. Because I’m fussy about ingredients and the cooking process (fresh fish and a light hand with the smoke) I much prefer to smoke it at home. The fish couldn’t be easier to prepare: It’s brushed with olive oil and lightly seasoned with salt, pepper, and a pinch of heat. You don’t want to mask the fish’s delicate flavor with a carpet of spice rub here. I top the fish with sprigs of fresh dill or thyme and then smoke it over indirect heat for about 20 minutes. The ambient heat of the covered grill causes the herb sprigs to meld to the fish and perfume it with a lovely flavor.When it comes to rounding out the board, you can be as simple or lavish as you wish. Lemon wedges, caperberries, cornichons, chopped red onion, sturdy seeded crackers, and sour cream flavored with a spoonful or two of prepared horseradish are essential in my book. Chopped hard-cooked eggs, radishes, cheeses (creamy and aged), and a crunchy cucumber salad (splashed with cider vinegar and olive oil) are other welcome additions. Ideally, the meal will stretch well into the afternoon, until the light begins to fade and the time is right for more loon song.
Perfect Smoked Pork Ribs
Rating: Unrated
New!
If you're looking for a show-stopping rib recipe for your next big summer barbecue or cookout, look no further than this oven-baked smoked pork rib recipe. Smoking then baking ribs yields meltingly tender, deeply flavored ribs that are incredibly satisfying to eat—moist and meaty, with a texture that's tender but not falling off the bone. To make them, begin with a dry rub of warm red spices and gochugaru (Korean red chile flakes), which adds peppery heat that's the perfect partner for the natural sweetness of pork.The ribs start over a two-zone charcoal fire perfumed with a few wood chunks. After the ribs have absorbed a couple of hours of smoke, they're wrapped in foil and parchment and finished in the oven, where the low heat allows the meat to gently braise in the seasoned juices. These ribs are perfect for barbecues, delicious eaten out of hand with hot sauce or a touch of barbecue sauce, but great on their own, too. This Memphis-style rib recipe relies on St. Louis–style spareribs, but the method works for any rack.
Charred Citrus Margaritas
Rating: Unrated
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I’ve been celebrating Cinco de Mayo since college, and trust me—there are awkward photos floating around the Midwest to prove it. No, I was not honoring the date’s actual significance, Mexico’s 1862 victory over French forces in the Battle of Puebla. Like most coeds, I was embracing an opportunity to have a party (“bring chips!”) and make blender drinks with frozen limeade. But what these festive gatherings lacked in historic context, they made up for in enthusiasm and my adoration for all things Mexico.Blame it on nostalgia or my abiding love for a mariachi music, but I still find myself yearning for an agave elixir in early May. But aside from a few trusted exceptions, it’s hard to find margaritas done right (most are made with premade mixers and heavy-handed with simple syrup), so I prefer to make them at home where I can geek out on ingredients (a favorite new mezcal or great-looking satsumas) and change up the cocktail recipe to suit my whims (watermelon? spicy salt rim? a splash of Ancho Reyes?).When I want to add a whiff of smoke and flavors as sultry as the Frida soundtrack, I make margaritas with grapefruit, oranges, and tangerines that have been charred on the grill. The intense heat of the grates caramelizes the fruits’ natural sugars and creates complex, bittersweet notes—and a more intriguing cocktail. The smallest pinch of fine sea salt perks up the flavor of the charred fruit, and freshly squeezed lime juice adds essential brightness. I adore the steely flavor of blanco tequila, but grilled juices can hold their own with the rounder flavors of reposado tequila or smoky mezcal. I’m happy to say I’ve left frozen limeade in the rearview mirror—along with other questionable habits from my early twenties.
Versatile pork tenderloin has a number of admirable attributes—it’s easy to prepare (just don’t overcook it), it plays well with endless global flavors (from lemongrass to Creole mustard), and feeds a crowd without blowing your budget. But let’s be honest: pork tenderloin will never make your heart race the way a well-marbled rib eye or glistening red snapper does.That is, unless you partner it with a hot grill, wood-fueled fire, and a seductive ally. The lean, mild-tasting meat is made for punchy sidekicks. In this recipe, grilled pork tenderloin is paired with one of my favorite supporting players: a tangy green salsa made from blistered tomatillos, onion, garlic, and serranos, which takes on a complex, caramelized depth from all of the charred and blackened bits. Finishing the sauce with a splash of thickened cream isn’t essential, but it makes everything better, bringing the tart, bitter, and spicy flavors together beautifully.This green salsa can be made up to five days in advance, so it’s a great opportunity to make the most of a lingering fire (from, say, last night’s dinner) and cook ahead—a time-efficient practice that I encourage in my books. Or, you can char the vegetables in a grill basket first, toss them in a food processor, and then puree them into a sauce while the meat rests.Another reason to direct pork tenderloin to the grill? You can use your tongs to roll the meat over the grates for even browning. That means more crispy, delicious exterior—and no panic about flipping, say, a fish fillet or chicken breast without tearing the skin.Serve thinly sliced rounds of pork over a pool of the tomatillo sauce, or pour the salsa over the top. When it’s paired with warm corn tortillas or steaming white rice, I ask you, dear reader, would you call this meal boring? Never.
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If you passed my house over the last couple of years, chances are there was a plume of smoke rising from my grill. When neighbors (who have become accustomed to the rib eye aroma and the glowing embers) see me snipping rosemary, they ask what wine to bring for dinner. When I kiss my kids goodnight, they say my hair smells like a campfire. The culmination of all these home fires, Thank You for Smoking, my new cookbook, just hit the stands.To develop the recipes, I rigged my PK Grill as a smoker to season everything from cocktails to quinoa with a whiff of wood smoke. Based on their moisture or density, a few ingredients quickly rose to the top as favorites for smoking: namely, nuts. Thanks to their natural fat content, nuts like walnuts, cashews, and pistachios absorb the seductive qualities of wood smoke almost as well as steak. The process deepens their color and infuses them with a rich, bacon-y note. Smoked nuts are delicious on their own (pass the smoked cashews at happy hour, please), but they’re a true game-changer when used for pesto and for baked confections like quick breads, cakes, and cookies.Enter: the smoked pistachio shortbread cookie. The swoony flavor of smoked pistachios permeates the meltingly tender cookies the way a cross breeze whisks through a lakeside cabin. Lemon zest adds a balancing brightness, but you could also swap in lime zest, chopped fresh rosemary, or coarsely ground pink peppercorns. Use a European-style butter to create a depth that will transport you to a hike through the heather-covered hills of Scotland. Finishing the cookies with a lemony honey and a pinch of flaky salt creates a subtly savory edge that’s delicious with steaming mugs of tea, a nip of single-malt Scotch, or vanilla bean ice cream.
The first Valentine’s Day I spent with my husband, David, was in New York. We had just started dating, and after a long run of being single, I was excited to embrace the romantic occasion. For me, this meant dreaming up a seductive meal. Back in those days, I had the time to subway around the city curating fanciful ingredients. There was an Italian market for pink beet gnocchi, a fancy butcher for hanger steaks, and a cheese pilgrimage to the West Village. I simmered a Jean-Georges Vongerichten red-wine-and-shallot reduction, carved beet slices into hearts (!), and splurged on Sancerre. (Looking back on my proclivity for all things cute, it’s a wonder I didn’t shape marzipan into cupids and unicorns.)This Valentine’s Day marks our 19th year together. In that time, we’ve built a life that includes two marvelous children, spoiled cats, and two new pups. We are fantastically busy in the luge ride of life: opening bakeries; writing cookbooks; and chauffeuring kids to Scouts, guitar lessons, and theater performances. But I haven’t lost my fondness for whimsy. In fact, it’s more important than ever to find deep pleasure and delight in small things that can make a day—and a meal—more special.That’s one of the reasons I love grilling lobster tails. It’s a simple step that takes the ingredient to the next level: Lobster tails are at their most delicious when the sweet, luxurious meat absorbs a whiff of smoke. Paired with smoky grilled lemon halves, the lobster is exceptionally delicious over small, pebbly pasta like stelline (star-shaped pasta typically served in broths), which provides a tender contrast that’s fun to eat and soaks up the buttery juices. Fragrant fresh oregano is delicious in the mix, but feel free to use your favorite soft herb. Do deploy plenty of freshly ground black pepper and Pecorino Romano, and taste for salt just before serving. Grilled asparagus or haricots verts (or both!) could easily join the party, but this meal needs nothing more than a steely white wine (and possibly Limonata for the kids, if present) and a table of those you hold most dear. The meal is definitely cheaper than any contrived Valentine’s Day prix fixe you might find.And as for whether to include a single long-stemmed rose and a giant strawberry that’s thinly sliced and fanned out like a sheepish apology? I leave that entirely up to you.—Paula Disbrowe
What turns a flatbread made with just 4 ingredients (flour, yeast, salt, and water) from everyday to extraordinary is the starter—a yeast, flour, and water base that ferments overnight and gives the bread its distinct flavor and chew. Here the starter gives the flatbreads a crackly texture that's then burnished on the grill. Top and finish like a pizza with herbed cheese spread and fresh tomatoes, or tear into pieces for dipping.
Sardinian Rice Salad
Rating: Unrated
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The inspiration for this salad was a trip Paula Disbrowe and David Norman took to Sardinia. The celery is traditional, but shaved radishes or carrots can also be used. More Terrific Salads
At lunch Paula Disbrowe serves this pizza with tomatoes and red onions marinated in vinegar and oil. She suggests folding the flat breads over and eating them with your hands, like giant pitas.Plus: More Vegetable Recipes and Tips
Corn Bread with Scallions
Rating: Unrated
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After cooking in Europe and writing and editing in New York, Paula Disbrowe packed her high heels and moved to Texas, where she spent three years as chef at Hart & Hind, a fitness retreat and cattle ranch. One result: Cowgirl Cuisine, with updated chuckwagon recipes like this tender, lightly sweet corn bread. More Bread and Biscuit Recipes
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