Cowgirl  Tacos


COWGIRL TACOS was born out of a severe case of homesickness – for big skies, blazing sunshine, and Tex-Mex.

When I ran out of flour tortillas that I brought back from my hometown of Dallas, Texas, I began to make my own. Later, a friend brought me a tortilla press so I could make corn tortillas, too. Dried black beans and pintos were easy to find. So were limes and cilantro, sold in bunches at most markets for a euro, or sometimes less. I made my own salsa, pico de gallo, and guacamole, all of which I’d put on top of homemade chili, served in fat white bowls.

Finding the right ingredients often turned into a culinary scavenger hunt. I craved the heat of jalapeños, so I began to scour the Paris markets for something that would mimic the flavor and the fire of the green chile that I loved so much. I found Moroccan peppers and Thai chilies, in both red and green. The same as jalapeños? Absolutely not, but when you live in France, you learn to improvise. And sometimes, when you least expect it, you find something that surprises you – they regularly stock Corona beer at the grocery store down the street.

The skies in Paris will never be as blue or as grand as those in Texas, and the sun will never burn as bright, but in my kitchen, with Willie Nelson and Lyle Lovett singing to me, I can transport myself back to Texas in an instant by simply making food that tastes like home.

Through COWGIRL TACOS, I hope to pass a little taste of Texas on to you.



Texas is bigger than France, but it also has a city in the north called Paris where people talk funny.

Fancy Texas margaritas are made with Cointreau, an orangey French liqueur.

Without Texas, there would be no French wine. When a tiny insect gobbled up nearly all of France’s vineyards in 1850, Texan T.V. Munson’s pest-resistant grapevines saved the industry. Sante!