I’ve learned many unique, weird, and practical facts and ideas from novels and memoirs. Stories have shown me socio-economic and racial divisions between hired help and bosses, first ladies recollections of their White House years, and a heart-aching account of a woman trying to find and recover her abducted daughters from Greece. Then there are the descriptions of exotic human behaviors and rituals, dreamy landscapes, and food that makes me salivate and cringe.
One of my favorite literary presents has been a cooking pot. When I decided to move from Alaska after living there for almost two decades, I sold or gave away my household goods. Resettling in Minnesota required accumulating linens, furniture, cooking pots, and so forth.
Years before relocating, I had read Cocktail Hour Under the Tree of Forgetfulness by Alexandra Fuller. Fuller’s memoir reads like an adventure novel as her parents immigrated with Fuller and her sister to Africa on promises of farmable land. They moved about the continent spurred by better economics, education opportunities, and to avoid civil war. Fuller commented that her mother’s French cast-iron cookware survived decades of use and rough travel.
This unintended recommendation of durability and longevity convinced me to invest in my own yellow enamel French cast-iron Dutch oven for my new home. It weighs more than my other frying pan and two smaller pots combined. My hope is that myself and my sunshine bright cooking pot season and age in robust well-being.