Four Years of (Avoiding) My Cast Iron Pans

Not shown in this picture, the first two hours of hard scrubbing with steel wool and soap. Despite all that, the soap suds were still turning grey/brown :(

Cast iron is not a piece of crap, but it is a piece of sh*t. There’s a difference somehow.

I remember how excited I was to unbox these. I bought two: one was a respectable 10.25", the second was an adorable 6.5". I scrubbed them clean and seasoned them over the highest possible heat on an outdoor stove. Seeing the outlines of my reflection on my cast iron surface afterwards makes me all kinds of pleased with myself.

I wanted them for a few reasons. One, there's nothing like cast iron for searing meats. The cast iron absolutely smokes stainless steel pans for searing (pun intended). I'd never seen something that could hold and give out heat so much. Once, I (accidentally) touched my hot cast iron with a polyester cotton cloth, and that spot of cloth instantly charred and melted onto the pan. It took a helluva effort to scrub out. It was both impressive and annoying.

Second, cast iron pans fit easily into most ovens. You can sear your roasts first over the stove and then transfer into the oven to finish up, all in one pan.

Third, well, just look at ‘em. They’re gorgeous. You can plunk it down on the table and serve directly out of them.

But over the years, I had used them only for a handful of times. Perhaps to sear steaks, or for a pizza experiment, or to melt provolone. The rest of the time, they’re spent gathering cobwebs (literally) in a cupboard.

So what happened? Well, cast iron is a pain to maintain. Seasoning the pans involves spending a couple of hours rubbing an oil-soaked paper towel into smoking-hot pans set over high heat, with the longest tongs I can find. Not a great way to spend a morning, in all honesty.

Here’s the maintenance process after you cooked with it:

1. You don’t want to wash the pans straight off the stove when they are hot! The resulting thermal shock from cold water can crack the cast iron. 

2. But also, you don’t want to wait too long to wash it. Prolonged exposure to water and acidic contents in the food can cause it to rust. 

3. Good job if you washed it in a timely manner! Now dry it off properly: first with a dry cloth, then set it over the stove to boil off all traces of water. Or - you guessed it! - it rusts. 

4. Remember to store it properly, away from any stray water droplets! But wait for it to cool down first. You had just heated it up, remember?

5. And the pièce de résistance: before storing, you’re advised to rub a thin layer of oil over the surface of the cast iron for additional protection against rust. 

No wonder stainless steel pans became the standard in most kitchens. It’s much easier to maintain. 

Mac and Cheese

Despite my best high-octane efforts at seasoning, rust spots and carbon still built up. The extreme temperatures of seasoning meant I wasn’t doing a thorough job rubbing oil over the pans, and the intense kitchen burners probably deposited soot onto the pans. Wiping the cast iron with a towel sometimes stains the towel dark, and the cookware seemed … decidedly food un-safe.

Following this gentleman’s demonstrations to prevent sticking on cast iron by using low and slow heat to cook, perhaps cooking on the highest possible heat hadn’t been the correct move after all? When I moved to my new place with induction stoves, I decided to give cast iron another go. I started anew, and bought a steel wool to scrub off the accumulated soot and rust and layers of uneven seasoning.

After several hours of hard scrubbing, the suds began to become less discoloured, turning more brown instead of grey, I took it as a sign that I’ve gotten all the seasoning off, and it’s just the uncoated cast iron getting a bit of a rust from the scrubbing with soap and hot water. The next step is seasoning. This time, I cranked up the oven instead of the stovetop so it became a largely hands-off affair. The results also seemed better: there’s no soot residue on the cookware.


I pan-fried a fish, which still stuck to the cast iron a little, and the seasoning degraded somewhat after I washed the pan thoroughly with soap. Which led to another round of oven-led seasoning, and a bit of oiling of the cast iron pan before storage seemed to have done the trick.

A few weeks after that, a skillet cookie recipe that I made for a family gathering didn’t seem to do any damage. I even have hope that the grease may have fortified the seasoning. (The cookie went like hotcakes. Both adults and children came back for seconds.) But we concurred, as the last of the slices were snapped up, its cast iron-related aesthetics sold the cookie. It would probably be much less appealing if I had served it from a Tupperware or baked them in a baking tin.

If the appearance of the dessert results in greater enjoyment, then who’s to say that the cast iron pan didn’t produce a superior product after all?

The things that we do for aesthetics.