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| Later I rechristened it Rustbucket |
In the mid-sixties I decided to try my hand as a journalist in
the USA. Easier then, but still a venturesome prank. Since I couldn’t be sure I
would succeed I came alone, leaving my wife and three-year-old daughter behind
in the UK.
Gift-of-the-gab got me a job and I spent the next three
months at the Pittsburgh Y until VR and daughter arrived on the SS United
States. In New York that is.
During this time everything I did - other than the journalism
- was new and often perversely difficult; but that was why I’d come, wasn’t it?
An impossibly aggressive realtor resembled an enemy from the Middle Ages. I half
expected this egg-shaped man to throw down his gauntlet as prelude to a duel
with pitchforks. Which I’m sure I’d have won.
I needed to equip the flat, a job I’d only shared with VR in
the UK. Obviously we’d need a frying pan. I disdained Teflon, being entranced
by a ferocious looking thing – more weapon than cooking utensil – fashioned as
one piece (including handle) in cast iron. Probably weighing one stone. To
avoid being asked the obvious question I’ll let US readers down lightly: that’s
fourteen pounds.
As far as I remember VR only used it once. Apart from its discouraging
weight the only job it did well was to raise the temperature of the integral
handle to white heat.
Later I got fed up of travelling to work on a tram
manufactured according to the same principles as the frying pan (ie, excess weight
seen as a virtue). On a whimsy I acquired a used Volvo 122, deemed a luxury car
in the UK, rated a sub-compact in the Iron City. My colleagues saw me as
deluded.
Different points of view y’unnerstand.
When I was a young lad - circa 1970 - my girlfriend’s father had a collection of cast ware that he was very protective of. I believe he allowed his wife to cook with them - perhaps even to “wash” them, but anyone else facing up to after dinner tasks was warned by him, in his peculiar high pitched voice, to not “clean the pans”. He did not seem willing to explain why or to provide any special instructions. Simply “Don’t”. A volatile character who deprived us of the good exercise of handling the pans.
ReplyDelete40-odd years later I have learned a couple of the techniques that make CI cookware a joy to use: One must maintain the “seasoning”- that being the lard or alternative oil that fills the pores of the cast iron and prevents food sticking. This requires NEVER using soap to clean the pan, and retreating it (oiling while warm) as soon as it shows any sign of dryness. Pans are cleaned mechanically with a cloth - and a bit of water if needed. Heating the pan thoroughly (at fairly high heat) and then reducing the flame well prior to cooking seems to work best to prevent crusting and sticking. I have pretty much given up on the lightweight stuff, especially for cooking eggs. And of course we are told that “teflon” ingestion is not healthy, though “non-stick” cookware has improved over the years. We have a ceramic lined pan that I detest/haven’t learned to properly use.
MikeM: Alas, I broke all the rules you cite above with the dear departed Le Creuset. I felt that having used the pan to heat fish fingers, I had to remove all fishy traces before I could heat slices of Polish ham. Just a drop of washing-up liquid and a thorough rinsing with plain water. You have to remember that what I do in the kitchen hardly qualifies as "cooking"; no more, really, than applying heat here and there. I cannot afford to immerse myself in recipes and such; in the limited time I have left. writing and singing are the greater priorities. The climax of the day is going to bed.
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