If you can't cook it in a skillet, it ain't worth cookin.
-unknown
You know, come to think of it, you can't get there from here.
-unknown
Get your skillet good and hot--wait til it starts to smoke--then throw the steak on, open the windows, and pray...
-anonymous
Steak, cornbread, flapjacks, omelettes, grilled sandwiches, gravy, potatoes au gratin, pie...you kin cook most anything in a greezy black skillet. I'll show you how on this brand spanking new web log. Just don't say I didn't warn ya.
First things first: this ain't to be no kind of electric cookbook, cause cast iron cookery and recipes don't get along too good. All you'll need in the way of measurement is your two hands: a knuckle of fat, a handful of salt pork bits, a heaping double handful of cornmeal.
But seeing as most everyone these days is a victim of the teflon revolution, I figger I'd best say a word or two about seasoning. Seasoning is what turns your skillet from a hunk of dead gray iron to a living, breathing, shiny frying surface from hell. More nonstick than any teflon, too. So if you've got a brand new skillet--and fool if you do, cause there's always a good old black one to be found down at the goodwill--or an old one in need of some TLC, here's what you do. Wash it with soap and water and scrub all the rust off. (This is the only time you will ever offend your skillet with soap, mind you.) Dry it with a rag, and coat it inside and out with fat. Suet, bacon drippings, natural lard, even clarified butter will do. It's gotta be good, old-fashioned animal fat, from critters. No soybean oil, no crisco, or just quit right now and go home. Now take your newly lubricated skillet and stick it in a hot oven (350 ought to be about right) and forget about it for a while. An hour, maybe. Or two. That's it. I never did claim to be much of a philosophizer, but there's something mystical in the union between metal and fat. I daresay you'll know when you've achieved it. And when you have, that incipient nonstick patina is something sacred. Cleave to it like the gospel and you shan't go astray.
-unknown
You know, come to think of it, you can't get there from here.
-unknown
Get your skillet good and hot--wait til it starts to smoke--then throw the steak on, open the windows, and pray...
-anonymous
Steak, cornbread, flapjacks, omelettes, grilled sandwiches, gravy, potatoes au gratin, pie...you kin cook most anything in a greezy black skillet. I'll show you how on this brand spanking new web log. Just don't say I didn't warn ya.
First things first: this ain't to be no kind of electric cookbook, cause cast iron cookery and recipes don't get along too good. All you'll need in the way of measurement is your two hands: a knuckle of fat, a handful of salt pork bits, a heaping double handful of cornmeal.
But seeing as most everyone these days is a victim of the teflon revolution, I figger I'd best say a word or two about seasoning. Seasoning is what turns your skillet from a hunk of dead gray iron to a living, breathing, shiny frying surface from hell. More nonstick than any teflon, too. So if you've got a brand new skillet--and fool if you do, cause there's always a good old black one to be found down at the goodwill--or an old one in need of some TLC, here's what you do. Wash it with soap and water and scrub all the rust off. (This is the only time you will ever offend your skillet with soap, mind you.) Dry it with a rag, and coat it inside and out with fat. Suet, bacon drippings, natural lard, even clarified butter will do. It's gotta be good, old-fashioned animal fat, from critters. No soybean oil, no crisco, or just quit right now and go home. Now take your newly lubricated skillet and stick it in a hot oven (350 ought to be about right) and forget about it for a while. An hour, maybe. Or two. That's it. I never did claim to be much of a philosophizer, but there's something mystical in the union between metal and fat. I daresay you'll know when you've achieved it. And when you have, that incipient nonstick patina is something sacred. Cleave to it like the gospel and you shan't go astray.
I want to go around the world in a cast-iron skillet. Count me in. I'd need some greens in there with me! Maybe some watercress - like that giant plate of watercress in Darjeeling! Now that's cast-iron living if I've ever seen it!
ReplyDeletejeddy - any thoughts on re-seasoning a skillet that isn't quite goodwill rusty but is a little under the weather? i hesitate to soap 'er but she needs a little something.
ReplyDeletelove, emily
yes yes, classy skillet maintenance tips please! i recently acquired a dear one & it needs a facelift. p
ReplyDeleteI don't know about classy, but it never hurts to give her a smear of hog grease and stick her in the oven for an hour. no need to scrub first unless there's actual rust.
ReplyDelete