Paula Disbrowe
Contributor
Paula Disbrowe is an Austin-based food and travel writer, recipe developer, and award-winning cookbook author specializing in live-fire cooking, Southern foodways, and Texas barbecue. A former senior editor at Southern Living and contributor to publications including The New York Times, Food & Wine, and Bon Appétit, she is the author or coauthor of several cookbooks, including Thank You for Smoking and the James Beard Award–winning Real Cajun.
Recipes
Texas-Style Smoked Brisket
In Texas, barbecue is about beef: specifically brisket, the cut by which any joint is judged. Brisket has become a favorite of restaurant chefs, too, hence the smoke ribbons and Hank Williams songs drifting out of restaurants as far away as Brooklyn. But can great brisket be made at home? I devoted a weekend to the task and learned that with a few key ingredients— salt, pepper, patience, and advice from Aaron Franklin, my neighbor and the pitmaster at Franklin Barbecue in Austin—swoonworthy results are doable. You just have to take the time—12 smoky hours.
Brisket (from the cow's breast or lower chest) is rich in connective tissue, so it requires a low-and-slow process to relax the muscle into tender goodness—a pleasure that can't be achieved with a quicker method. Luckily, those first unforgettable bites are worth the weekend. So let's get started.
Brisket (from the cow's breast or lower chest) is rich in connective tissue, so it requires a low-and-slow process to relax the muscle into tender goodness—a pleasure that can't be achieved with a quicker method. Luckily, those first unforgettable bites are worth the weekend. So let's get started.
Recipes
Link Family Crawfish Boil
Editor's note: Chef Donald Link of New Orleans restaurants Cochon and Herbsaint, shared this recipe as part of a special Mardi Gras celebration he created for Epicurious.
Crawfish boils are the greatest outdoor cooking events in southern Louisiana, and they epitomize our way of life. These giant parties for adults and kids are all about having a good time, being with friends and family, and eating local food.
To boil crawfish you need to have the proper setup—namely a propane tank, a stand to put the pot on, and a very large pot (crawfish are sold in 40-pound sacks). The pot needs to be fitted with a basket so you can pull the crawfish out and add more.
My cousin Billy's crawfish are, hands down, the best I've ever tasted. When it comes to cooking crawfish, though, we aren't in total agreement. I like to soak the crawfish in their spicy cooking water; Billy doesn't. Some people prefer to drain the crawfish after they've been soaking in the spicy water for just 5 minutes, then dump them into an ice chest, and season the outside of the crawfish shells heavily. This method keeps the meat from getting overcooked, but the spices end up on your hands, not in the meat. To my mind, "marinating" the cooked crawfish in their cooking liquid allows more of the spice and salt to be absorbed by the meat and creates more juice in the heads. (Sucking the juice from the head before you eat the tail is the proper way to eat boiled crawfish.)
Though no self-respecting party in Cajun Country would cook fewer than two or three sacks, I've given a smaller recipe here.
Crawfish boils are the greatest outdoor cooking events in southern Louisiana, and they epitomize our way of life. These giant parties for adults and kids are all about having a good time, being with friends and family, and eating local food.
To boil crawfish you need to have the proper setup—namely a propane tank, a stand to put the pot on, and a very large pot (crawfish are sold in 40-pound sacks). The pot needs to be fitted with a basket so you can pull the crawfish out and add more.
My cousin Billy's crawfish are, hands down, the best I've ever tasted. When it comes to cooking crawfish, though, we aren't in total agreement. I like to soak the crawfish in their spicy cooking water; Billy doesn't. Some people prefer to drain the crawfish after they've been soaking in the spicy water for just 5 minutes, then dump them into an ice chest, and season the outside of the crawfish shells heavily. This method keeps the meat from getting overcooked, but the spices end up on your hands, not in the meat. To my mind, "marinating" the cooked crawfish in their cooking liquid allows more of the spice and salt to be absorbed by the meat and creates more juice in the heads. (Sucking the juice from the head before you eat the tail is the proper way to eat boiled crawfish.)
Though no self-respecting party in Cajun Country would cook fewer than two or three sacks, I've given a smaller recipe here.
Recipes
My Boudin
Editor's note: Chef Donald Link of New Orleans restaurants Cochon and Herbsaint, shared this recipe as part of a special Mardi Gras celebration he created for Epicurious.
Boudin, the king of Cajun food, is my favorite thing in the world to eat. It is a unique food in that it can be breakfast, lunch, dinner, a snack, or car food. Whereas most of the country might show up at a morning get-together with donuts, we show up with boudin. And no two boudins are exactly alike—that's amazing, considering they all have basically the same ingredients of rice and pork.
One of the best boudins I've had is made by my cousin Bubba Frey, who owns the Mowata General Store in the heart of the German settlement between the Link and Zaunbrecher rice fields, but all my cousins down there make their own boudin. One cousin told me that meat from the temple of the pig's head makes the best boudin, while another claims that a combination of hog jowl and shoulder meat is the secret. The truth is, they are all good.
This recipe combines elements from all of the different boudins I've eaten in my day. There's liver in it but just enough, it's nicely spiced but wont burn your mouth, and it has the perfect amount of rice.
Boudin, the king of Cajun food, is my favorite thing in the world to eat. It is a unique food in that it can be breakfast, lunch, dinner, a snack, or car food. Whereas most of the country might show up at a morning get-together with donuts, we show up with boudin. And no two boudins are exactly alike—that's amazing, considering they all have basically the same ingredients of rice and pork.
One of the best boudins I've had is made by my cousin Bubba Frey, who owns the Mowata General Store in the heart of the German settlement between the Link and Zaunbrecher rice fields, but all my cousins down there make their own boudin. One cousin told me that meat from the temple of the pig's head makes the best boudin, while another claims that a combination of hog jowl and shoulder meat is the secret. The truth is, they are all good.
This recipe combines elements from all of the different boudins I've eaten in my day. There's liver in it but just enough, it's nicely spiced but wont burn your mouth, and it has the perfect amount of rice.
Recipes
Chocolate Yummy
Editor's note: Chef Donald Link of New Orleans restaurants Cochon and Herbsaint, shared this recipe as part of a special Mardi Gras celebration he created for Epicurious.
Chocolate Yummy might not be part of your dessert vernacular, but in Cajun Country, everybody knows what this dish is. The "yummy" architecture begins with a base of crumbled cookies (usually store-bought), followed by layers of sweetened cream cheese, chocolate pudding, and Cool Whip. I have a few aunts who specialize in this dessert, so it never fails to conjure up memories of family get-togethers. This is the type of dessert that someone pulls out of the fridge after a big meal or cookout, and even when guests think they're too full, they find themselves polishing off a portion of yummy.
Here is a grown-up version that's a bit more sophisticated, because I have lost my taste for the super-sweet original. Here, a rich pecan shortbread base is topped with cream cheese, a silky pudding made with dark chocolate, and fresh whipped cream. I'm pretty sure it would even win my aunts' approval.
Chocolate Yummy might not be part of your dessert vernacular, but in Cajun Country, everybody knows what this dish is. The "yummy" architecture begins with a base of crumbled cookies (usually store-bought), followed by layers of sweetened cream cheese, chocolate pudding, and Cool Whip. I have a few aunts who specialize in this dessert, so it never fails to conjure up memories of family get-togethers. This is the type of dessert that someone pulls out of the fridge after a big meal or cookout, and even when guests think they're too full, they find themselves polishing off a portion of yummy.
Here is a grown-up version that's a bit more sophisticated, because I have lost my taste for the super-sweet original. Here, a rich pecan shortbread base is topped with cream cheese, a silky pudding made with dark chocolate, and fresh whipped cream. I'm pretty sure it would even win my aunts' approval.
Recipes
Lake Charles Dirty Rice
This recipe appears at just about every occasion in Cajun Country. Whether it's a holiday, funeral, family reunion, or potluck dinner, you can bet there will be at least one form of dirty rice or rice dressing. At the Link family reunion in Robert's Cove, I counted six versions, all different. The essential ingredients are few, but flavor and texture vary greatly. The main difference between dirty rice and rice dressing is that rice dressing is generally made with ground beef or pork, whereas dirty rice is made with pork and chicken livers. Many people think they don't like liver, but when it's balanced with other flavors, the liver taste is not overpowering. I've served this deeply flavored rice to many people who claim they hate liver, only to have them love it.