Lodge L2SP3 Pre-Seasoned Cast-Iron Serving Pot, 2-Quart

CUSTOMER REVIEW



Despite being named a "serving pot", this is a functional Dutch oven.



Introductory note: I don't cook. I famously don't cook. I destroy kitchen equipment. I'm known for trying to make ramen and setting the water on fire. I was once boiling water for pasta when the bottom of the pan made a loud explodey noise and developed a new hole. Several friends won't allow me in or near their kitchens now.



I recently bought a slew of Lodge Logic stuff, after resigning myself to the fact that the price tag on my nice cookware, coupled with the knowledge that I explode or incinerate anything cooking-related that I touch, is going to forever intimidate me into leaving them unused in the cupboard. Cast iron, I thought, should be able to survive even me.



I did season my "pre-seasoned" pots, by warming them on the stovetop, wiping them down with Crisco, and stacking them in a 350-degree oven for an hour with a cookie sheet under them to catch drips. Every one of them has performed superbly since, handling everything I've thrown at them flawlessly. If you're a terrible cook -- and I mean, water-catches-fire, pans-explode, dangerously terrible cook like me-- give cast iron a try before you give up.



Crazy let's-see-if-this-works attempt one, modified from a much larger recipe: Set the oven preheating to 350. On a medium-low burner (about "three-and-a-half" on my electric range), cook about two inches of a roll of sausage in the pot. Peel and slice a potato while it cooks, while desultorily poking at the sausage occasionally to turn it and break it into clumps. The sausage should be nice and brown and done through before you scoop it out onto a paper towel to drain. After scooping out the sausage onto a paper towel, but leaving the sausage grease in the pan, spread the potato slices across the bottom. Stir and turn them for a few minutes, then spread them out into a single layer again and crumble the cooked sausage over them. Pour about half a small carton of egg substitute over the sausage and potatoes. Cover with grated Cheddar or sliced cheese-food-product. Put the lid on, bang the whole mess into the oven, and ignore it for a while. When your stomach rumbles, wander back to it and find a poofy, unhealthy, delicious mess of breakfast inside. This turned out so well I had three breakfasts in a row, at one sitting.



If you want to look like you know what you're doing, get some small, cute cookie cutters and cut out a few shapes from the cooked potato slices. Save these out and put them on top of the cheese during the oven phase. This makes the final dish look like you know what you're doing and spent hours at it. Total time actually working: 15 minutes.



Crazy let's-see-if-this-works attempt two, also modified from a larger recipe: Gather a 30-ish-ounce can of peaches in syrup, a cheap box of plain cake mix, some cinnamon, and some butter. Dump the can of peaches in the pot, with about half the syrup. Shake out half the box of cake mix on top at pat it out even with a spoon or spatula or something. Sprinkle cinnamon over that and put a few dollops of butter around the surface. Put the lid on, shove it in the oven, and turn the oven on to 350. (Forgetting about -- I mean, choosing against! -- preheating the oven lets the pot warm with the oven and prevents thermal shock.) After an hour or so (or however long it takes to watch the new episode of Doctor Who and forget about the cobbler completely), remember in a startled panic that "OH WHOOPS I HAVE FOOD IN THE OVEN!" and run to check on it. Chances are, the tantalizing smell of the cake mix baking together with the peach syrup was what reminded you of your food, and the cobbler is ready to serve. Present it to your guests as though you spent more than 5 minutes upending boxes, jars, and cans into an empty pot, and watch it disappear.



Thanks to cast iron, I might get the hang of this cooking thing after all.



More seriously, I have yet to make something in this pot that didn't come out delicious, and -- I cannot emphasize this enough -- *I can't cook*. I could theorize about how the even heating and lack of hot spots makes the pot act more the way inexperienced chefs expect a pot to act, or I could go on about the effects of starting on the stovetop and transferring the dish to the oven, or I could rhapsodize about the joys of a pot allergic to being washed that only needs wiping clean and a light coating of oil before storing it, but the gist is this: ANYONE can cook in cast iron. Even me. And for experimenting, or cooking for one or two people, this little skillet/saucepan/casserole-dish is an inexpensive (and thus far indestructible!) way to start.



Just... don't put it in the microwave. Stay away from the microwave, and you'll be fine.