A recycled lifestyle…

Come to think of it, though, I don’t think gold would cook quite as well. So maybe something gold should be worth its weight in cast iron! The bread was fantastic and has been made every other day since then. The clafouti came out well too, but I think the recipe is not quite as good as the last one I tried, so I shall try that one in the Dutch Oven and see if it turns out as light & fluffy as when I cooked it in a quiche dish. If it does, I’ll post it for you.

Since last week, I’ve clocked up two more tales of ironic triumph; my sister-in-law was admiring my somewhat eclectic collection of cast-iron cookware and said sadly that she would love to have some, but couldn’t justify the massive cost. So I told her where most of mine has come from, and that at least two of my friends have been supplied by the same source. Whereupon she asked whether I could keep an eye out for some for her too. A couple of days later, I went down to the Recycling Centre to ask the boys for their assistance. As I went up the steps to the Metals skip, I saw a pile of blue Le Creuset saucepans, four of them, but with five lids…? I peered into the skip, and there was a little milk pan, not too far down, and a metal coathanger on the top to unwind and hook the handle with… They were virtually pristine; just a few light scorch marks on the beechwood handles, so Lisa has a matching set of 5 beautiful blue & white pans awaiting her down here for very little expense! Now to find her some casserole dishes…

Then there’s the garden stove… not content with the firepit, lovely though it is, I couldn’t resist the rusty little potbelly barbecue when I saw it. Rust is a familiar adversary now, and provided the metal underneath is sound, I’ll have a go at restoring almost anything. My pretty little Willcox & Gibbs chainstitcher looked like it was standing on two lumps of solid rust when it first arrived; now it’s working for it’s living space as if the 50-odd years stuck at the back of someone’s damp garage had never happened. So the familiar potbelly shape beckoned to me and whispered, “Rescue me!” Into the back of my car it went, for £1, and there it stayed for a couple of days whist I tried to think of ways to introduce it gently to DH, who gets a bit frustrated with the constant trickle of “other people’s rubbish” meandering through our home & garage. I gave up in the end and just took it out without saying anything. (To his credit, nor has he – yet!) Needless to say, most of the rust just brushed off it, and a quick coat of “Kurust” has sorted out the rest, and now the little stove looks smart and ready for action once again. Sadly the British weather has meant I haven’t had a chance to put it through it’s paces yet, but I am looking forward to a chance to try out some more recipes, and in fact to see whether the Dutch Oven might fit neatly on the top without making it unstable. So wish me some good weather, please!