My name is Chris, and I like cooking with iron. This is my iron. This is what inspired the word iron in my blog name. And this also proves how patient my amazing wife is.
In my other life (that one where I walk around and junk instead of typing) I work with low-income kids, and I was poking around our supply garage when I came across 6 of those beauties.
“Well gee dang,” I thought to myself, “I could make some sweet food with these.”
I brought them home and began earnestly scrubbing them with steel wool and baking the old, rancid oil off of them. But it just didn’t feel like enough.
“Hey Facebook,” I declared on my status, “If you have any old cast iron, I’d love to take it and use it with these kids.” I waited 3 days, and someone had 6 more for me. Each one takes about 3 hours of love and sanding and baking, but each one looks brand new as it leaves my kitchen. See that one in the middle? With the rust? Yeah, now it looks like this:
I’ll be the first to admit that this is a phase. I’ve done this before and I’ll do it again. I find something that really gets my goat. I burn hot on it for a while, figure out how to do something amazing with it, and then I quietly file that knowledge away and my interest in it cools down to a solid smolder. Then I move on to something else.
My next iron? Who knows what it’ll be. It’ll hit me hard, I know that. Everybody I know will be sick of hearing me talk about it. I’ll have friends ask to change the subject. My wife will sit and patiently listen to everything I have to say about it and everything I learned about it. She won’t say “Wow, you sat and read about this instead of doing laundry?” because my wife knows that there is no derailing this train. Right now, this is the coolest thing I know how to do. And trust me, you’ll know what I find next.