I replaced the same pan every 2 years. My mother's never needed replacing.
Black flecks in my husband's dinner, a cabinet of worn-out pans, and my mother's pot still going strong after decades. Then I finally understood why.
Home & Kitchen
Cookware, tableware and the small habits that make a kitchen easy to love.
I hadn't baked in a year because of one kitchen cabinet. My friend fixed it in 4 seconds.
Thirty years of crashing pans, a ruined muffin morning with my granddaughter, and one cookie swap I'd rather forget. Then my friend Carol opened her cabinet, and it took her four seconds.
Your Cast Iron Isn't Ruined. Here's How to Bring It Back, and Keep It Slick.
Cast iron has a reputation for being fussy. In practice it asks for very little, as long as you know the few things that matter.
For 20 years I missed the start of my own dinner parties. One pan fixed it.
Scraping a roast onto a cold platter while the doorbell kept ringing, hunting for a trivet that matched nothing. Then my neighbor Nancy set her whole pan down on the table, still bubbling.
I washed 4 pots every Sunday night for 20 years. My sister ended it with 1.
Pruned hands at the sink, a sheet-pan shortcut that never worked, and my sister Rachel carrying dinner to the table in the one pot she'd cooked it in.
I gave away my rusted skillet. My friend hasn't seasoned hers once in 2 years.
Two scrubbed knuckles, an orange ring in my sink, and a good pan sitting in my neighbor's kitchen instead of mine. Then I found the skillet my friend Renee swears she's never once seasoned.
After 22 years, my kids moved out. Their dented pots stayed. One set fixed that.
Dented, mismatched and held shut by a lid that belonged to nothing. Here's the 3-piece set that finally made my stove look like someone still cooks there.
Every Pan in One Cabinet, and No More Clatter: A Calmer Way to Store Cookware
The clatter of a crowded cookware cabinet is a fixable problem. Start by editing, then stack with a plan.
A pan built for four ruined my eggs for 3 years. A chef fixed it.
Scraped eggs, a ruined breakfast, and a pan sized for a family of four. Then my friend Diane showed me the skillet a chef built for someone cooking alone.
I scorched my grandmother's Sunday sauce 3 weeks straight. A chef's pan fixed it.
3 scorched Sundays, a bitter sauce I almost served anyway, and one lunch at Angela's that finally showed me what I'd been doing wrong.