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It was black, cast iron and sometimes too heavy for her to lift,
requiring the use of a double-handed grip with hot pad wrapped around the
handle. The skillet had been carefully passed down by her Grandmother, first
to Maddy's Mother, and then on to Maddy on her wedding day.
"Promise me you will take good care of this, Maddy. I admit, it's a little
battered around the edges, but you never quite know when it will come in
handy. There's nothing like having a good skillet on hand in the kitchen."
Maddy could almost hear her Mother's words playing round in her mind as she
rinsed the skillet clean under the faucet.
Her mother had been right.
From fried eggs, to ground beef, steak or the occasional pork chop, the
skillet had provided many a useful service. Some weeks it would barely be
re-seasoned in time for it to be needed once more. It had become the center
of her meal planning.
Maddy turned the heavy skillet over in her hands before setting it on the
low burner to dry. "Never air dry a skillet Maddy, fast way to end up with
rust." It wasn't that hard to remember the litany of upkeep needed for her
mother's present. Afterall, to mistreat such a tool would be tantamount to a
crime.
As Maddy turned away from the burner, she took a delicate step over the pool
of blood that crept slowly across the kitchen linoleum.
Yes, one must indeed remember to care correctly for a cast iron skillet.
Afterall, you never could tell when it was going to come in handy.
Now if she could only remember what her mother had told her was useful for
cleaning linoleum. |
