Cast iron pans spice up my cooking and my life – Southern Kitchen | Directory Mayhem

I wasn’t born to cast iron. I haven’t had Grandma in the Howlerery scrubbing her cauldron with sand or Mawmaw in the Bayou smearing her griddle with pan juices. My maternal grandmother was a foodie of the 1960s. At a time when housewives were serving iceberg, she asked, “Would you like a salad or just a piece of salad?” As for my paternal grandmother, as my father said, she had reservations.

No, my childhood pan was Teflon. I grew up in a 1980s kitchen dedicated to the Silver Palate cookbooks, Cooking Light magazine, and The New York Times’ food section, where chef Pierre Franey praised the new and improved nonstick pans. We sprayed nonstick spray on our nonstick pans, leaving a gummy residue that we unsuccessfully scrubbed with a non-marring plastic scourer. When I stocked my tiny college kitchen, it came with a non-stick skillet.

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