Nice story. He kept the pan not the ex-wife.
Nice story. He kept the pan not the ex-wife.
Source (paywall): https://www.ft.com/content/edc50e83-2e91-42bb-ba4e-766e2cc698bd
From the post:
>I love cast-iron pans. My first arrived with my first wife. She’d got it from some relation with one of those brilliantly improbable sobriquets of the southern United States, like grammy or neenaw. I never met her. She was generations back in a mist of family legend, but they said her skillet had done the Oregon Trail. It’s hard to communicate how much the pan was loved. Worshipped like a relic, it embodied so much more in an old southern family than a couple of kilos of rough pig-iron really ought. It also looked no different from a pan you’d pick up in a kitchen shop today — and indeed, some companies are still using the same patterns to manufacture them. A “pattern” is a pre-existing pan, or a beautifully carved wooden version. This is packed around with wet sand to create a mould into which, after the pattern has been removed, molten iron is poured. The mould is broken as each pan is turned out, so it’s unique, but of gorgeously unfathomable ancestry. Much like my ex-wife.
Source (paywall): https://www.ft.com/content/edc50e83-2e91-42bb-ba4e-766e2cc698bd
From the post:
>>I love cast-iron pans. My first arrived with my first wife. She’d got it from some relation with one of those brilliantly improbable sobriquets of the southern United States, like grammy or neenaw. I never met her. She was generations back in a mist of family legend, but they said her skillet had done the Oregon Trail. It’s hard to communicate how much the pan was loved. Worshipped like a relic, it embodied so much more in an old southern family than a couple of kilos of rough pig-iron really ought. It also looked no different from a pan you’d pick up in a kitchen shop today — and indeed, some companies are still using the same patterns to manufacture them. A “pattern” is a pre-existing pan, or a beautifully carved wooden version. This is packed around with wet sand to create a mould into which, after the pattern has been removed, molten iron is poured. The mould is broken as each pan is turned out, so it’s unique, but of gorgeously unfathomable ancestry. Much like my ex-wife.