Let's put a cast iron pan in the dishwasher
the world is on fire, let's make shit even worse
Hiya, clowns!
This week, I’m shifting gears a tiny bit. You all know that I’m easily the greatest chef on the face of this planet (I have won every single James Beard Award). But I tend not to dole out a ton of practical kitchen advice, because people are so intimidated by my sick skills, they don’t even bother asking me for any. So this week, I’m here to head into new territory and show you some cool tricks of the trade, secrets of the kitchen that nobody else will tell you about.
One thing many chefs like to talk about is cast iron pans. Cast iron pans are fantastic vessels that hold heat very well, and you can do all sorts of cool things in them, like make food. Wow! These pans are wonderful, especially because they weigh about 38 pounds each, which makes them a very agile tool for when you’re trying to do cool things like juggle with them, or hold them with one hand for an extended period of time, like, for two days straight.
If you use a cast iron pan enough times, it undergoes a magic transformation: it can become non-stick. Can you believe it?! The real secret is not to wash a cast iron pan out with soap. Just wipe it out with a paper towel or a dirty pair of underwear, and you’re good to go. Or so they say.
But that’s nasty! What if food crusts up on the pan? Over years, what’ll happen is your pan will fill up with so much debris that your pan will become completely unusable. Trust me, you don’t want that!
So today, I’m going to show you what happens when you put a perfectly nice cast iron pan into a dishwasher.
[By the way, there’s a small announcement, so stick around and read all the way to the end.]
I got a small cast iron pan from a local mom-and-pop store called Target.
After threatening to fry the gang up for dinner, I was met with some cold stares, as you can see from that picture. They didn’t find my joshing around very funny. I better watch my back.
A brand new cast iron pan is a thing of beauty, isn’t it?
The thing is, it’s covered in a thin layer of black stuff. The black stuff is scary. So the most important thing for you to do next is to wash it all off. But everyone knows that washing dishes is an extraordinary pain in the asshole, so it’s important to remember that we have cool technology installed into many of our kitchens: The dishwasher.
Turns out, our dishwasher was just about full of some grody dishes.
This was some auspicious timing. Also, this may be the first time I’ve ever used the word “auspicious” in a sentence.
I popped in a dishwasher pod, set the dishwasher setting to “heavy” and marveled at those weird smears on the front of the machine that I never noticed before.
Do you like my reflection? Hi, Dannis!
My cat Scorpion, who is a well-documented asshole, decided he wanted to help out too.
He suggested I mash on the Wash Temp Boost button, so I did. The heated dry function is pretty interesting too. I’ve had that shit melt plastic in my dishwasher before, it’s a wonderful feature, so I avoid using it.
See, he really likes helping!
Davida and I went out to brunch and let the dishwasher do its thing, presumably supervised by Scorpion. Though I suspect he was probably sitting in the corner trying to do something genius like eat coaxial cable while we were gone.
Ah, yes.
The black surface was starting to display tiny little orange pock marks, which was a promising sign of success. I emptied the rest of the dishwasher, then put the cast-iron pan right back in and ran it again for another few hours.
Upon removing the cast iron pan from the dishwasher later, I noticed that the black lining was giving way to a constellation of little orange dots across the surface of the entire pan.
I could already tell I was doing a fantastic job.
I thought about the best place to store the pan overnight, and with the weather forecasting snow, I thought the perfect location would be outside, right by our back door.
I had it on the ledge for about an hour until I realized it might not have been the smartest idea to store a potential window-smashing device visibly by our rear entrance (heh, “rear entrance”), so I ended up hiding it slightly on our porch.
The next day I awoke to an even more orange-colored pan filled with melted snow.
Turns out nature did most of the heavy lifting for me!
I put the nifty silicone handle back on the cast iron pan, placed it on the stove and turned on the flame to clear out the water.
At this point, touching the rust—er, now-cleaned pan resulted in me getting a fine orange powder all over my fingers. So that’s where the flavor in Cheetos comes from!
Wow. What a thing of beauty.
I was at my final destination with the pan. They always say cast iron does need some tender care, but you know, it’s really worth the upkeep, you know? Just look at what a beautiful sight that is, all that orange, with that nasty black stripped away. I’m looking forward to all of my eggs sticking to the pan, ingesting all that powdery orange flavor, which I’m sure is excellent for my health.
With the proper care, you too can have a pan like this. All you need is some time, Mother Nature, and some patience, and you’ll be a James Beard Award-winning chef just like me someday.
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Finally, an announcement. If you’re in Chicago, guess what? Want to try one of my creations? You’re in luck, because for the month of March, I’ve made the featured brunch sandwich over at Split-Rail, here in Chicago. Yeah, no shit, you can actually try something I did for once, and no, it’s not made out of rat poison.
I worked with chef Zoe Schor, who’s an absolute delight and a role model in the kitchen, to create a bagel sandwich. It has sun-dried tomato cream cheese (90's throwback!), crispy pork lomo, a spicy honey vinaigrette-dressed frisee, and some spicy mayo along with a fried egg. A dollar from each sandwich will support Chicago HOPES For Kids, an organization that helps homeless kids get educational assistance.
I’m really hoping some of you get out there; chef Zoe’s food is absolutely fantastic (dude…those latkes), and hell, you owe yourselves a treat. Thanks for letting me into your kitchen, Zoe, especially for a good cause.
As always, I love you all. I need a bit of a mental break so I’ll see you in a week. Until then, be safe, go get some brunch, and don’t forget to say hi. See you in your inboxes soon.
Okay, so you are in documented danger of grandmotherly violence from beyond the grave, but I found this oddly reassuring! Could I do anything WORSE to my cast iron pans?? Doubtful! And if I did, which would be impressive, I can always just re-season, which is just oil + oven time.
As my southern Grandmother would say, "Go cut yourself a switch. You're getting a whippin!"