Cast-Iron Manhood

So what is it about cast-iron cookware? What's the big attraction? I love it. I love the weight of it in my hands when I pick up a pan. I like the sizzle food makes when it hits the hot metal. I like spending months and months getting an iron pan perfectly conditioned and - even more - I like the fact that if something goes horribly, tragically wrong in the kitchen, I can scrub it down with steel wool and start over. I even like the sheer amount of work that goes into conditioning or "seasoning" a pan.

Iron is a great material to cook with, largely because it is so heavy. A cast-iron pan is so dense that it holds heat really well and distributes it evenly. Foods that require high, even, constant temperatures cook exceptionally well in a heavy skillet. Unfortunately, cast-iron is also a very porous metal; it tends to absorb liquids and doesn't provide a very good cooking surface.

At least, not at first.

If one is very diligent and keeps at it, it is possible to fill in the pores in a cast-iron pan over time with natural oils from foods that you have cooked in it. With each use, the surface of the metal becomes smoother and shinier, until it eventually becomes almost non-stick. The secret to this is never washing your pans - which is not to say that you shouldn't clean them. You should - just not with soap and water; experts advise scrubbing it out with salt or wiping it clean with an oily rag, or traditionally, with a piece of pork fat or bacon rind. Achieving a perfect seasoning on a pan is a strangely fulfilling experience - something like gardening - watching the pan grow more and more perfect with each use.

Recently, an acquaintance of mine made the mistake of asking how I was on a morning when I had just finished using a particularly well-seasoned pan and was clearly non-plussed at the way I went on and on about the state of my cast-iron. She snorted and said something to the effect of, "You men and your cast-iron! You sound just like my husband," in an amused/exasperated tone of voice.

I had never thought of cast-iron enthusiasm as being gender-linked before, but the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. There IS a certain, cowboy/mountain man-ish quality to using it, and the sheer weight and heft of a pan has a vaguely masculine feel to it. I decided to see if this was a generally held opinion. I posted a message on Chowhound.com, an internet website devoted to food topics, asking if this was a "guy thing".

Opinion was divided. Everyone that responded to my inquiry agreed that there is at least a perception that cast-iron is one of those things like the 3 Stooges or the infield-fly rule that only men can get worked up about. One woman recalled the look of sheer panic and revulsion on her father's face when he came home from work one day to find that his visiting mother-in-law had CLEANED HIS PANS! (Gasp!)

However, many people weren't so sure. Several mentioned that their cast iron cookware provided them with a spiritual link with their grandmothers and more than one man made comments like, "My wife won't let me NEAR her cast-iron - those are her babies." And one Southern woman made a connection between cast-iron and feminist philosophy that I would never have considered. "I was raised," she wrote, "with the cliché of the disgruntled housewife being one who "whopped her husband upside the head" with her iron skillet! While I was growing up, this image was constantly recalled by my mother and grandmother just out of earshot of my dad, with much hilarity all around." She too went on to say that her grandmother's cast-iron pans are her prized possessions.

Now thoroughly intrigued, I decided to consult an expert. I got in touch with Jim Dixon, a food writer based in Portland, Oregon and the creator of RealGoodFood.com, another top website devoted to food and food issues. It turns out that he is very familiar with the phenomenon of cast-iron obsession.

"I love cast iron," he says. "It's nearly indestructible and provides a nice, even heat. You should have at least one cast iron skillet, preferably a 10 or 12 incher. The best aren't even made anymore, but are worth looking for." He agrees that there is probably something inherently masculine about the whole cast-iron thing. "My wife will buy me skillets at garage sales but doesn't share my ardor for the well-seasoned Griswald skillets. The weight of the pans might also have something to do with it. In our kitchen we have a nested stack of about eight skillets, and it requires Popeye-like forearms to wrestle out the big one on the bottom."

On further reflection though, he acknowledges that it probably isn't that simple. "My first cast iron (3 well-seasoned Griswalds that I still use everyday) came from my grandmother," he says, "and she used them everyday, too. They were already old then, but I still use them almost every day."

The final word on this subject came from a surprising source - my editor. In the process of "pitching" the idea of writing a story on the masculine mystique of cast-iron, I pulled out the cruddy, rusty frying pan I had just bought at the yardsale.

"How much did you pay for that?" she asked with a sigh.

"Um, er... threedollars..." I mumbled.

"You could have bought a NEW one for eight!" she replied. (The words, "you idiot" remained graciously unspoken.)

And ultimately, isn't that the acid test? How many women would spend money for the privilege, of scouring out a thoroughly decrepit frying pan for hours, then spend months of diligent effort seasoning it? The answer is simple.

Not a woman in the world.

RECIPES:

Spring Vegetable Frittata

Corn Bread

The Perfect Steak au Fladd