Perfectly seasoned skillet

Back in the day (:P to  for the usage of that phrase!), meaning my teen years, I worked in the family seafood business, which has long since been sold.  At the time, there was a composition notebook full of recipes, long gone now and memorialized  in my cookbook based on my recollection (crab cakes, crab soup, chowders, salads, baked beans, etc.).  The kitchen also boasted a huge, perfectly seasoned cast iron skillet.  That thing was at least 20" in diameter.  I can’t tell you how many softshell crabs and scallops I sauteed in that pan.  I’m not sure what happened to that pan when the business was sold.

When Mom and the aunts/uncles were cleaning out Mommom’s house, she asked what I would like, if anything.  By default, all the children and grandchildren get their gifts returned.  (I received a series of magnets, pottery, and other knick-knacks from the various places I’ve visited.)  But was there anything else?  The Biochemist asked for Poppop’s decoys.  The Computer Guy asked for Poppop’s funeral flag.  I asked for photos…and Mommom’s skillet.  It’s a bit odd, maybe, since I don’t cook a great deal.  But when I think of Mommom, she’s either napping on the couch (3-4pm daily  during General Hospital, after doing other chores and before cooking dinner), or she’s in the kitchen, building a meal for the extended family.  If the yellow platter that she used for decades to serve fried chicken had survived, I would’ve asked for that.  But the skillet is perfectly seasoned, the cooking implement that she used daily.  Breakfast (eggs, bacon, pancakes), lunch (grilled cheese), and dinner (a variety of dishes).  I don’t cook a great deal, but I’m going to start using it, because a perfectly seasoned skillet won’t stay that way if it’s just left to sit.  Use in memoriam.


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