When I was in senior in college, I found a massive Le Creuset pot at a thrift store for $10. It was bright yellow and I was instantly smitten with it. I remember trying to talk my small town thrift store into discounting the price, but even they knew what they had (so what if the enamel was a little bit chipped?). I used that pot whole final year of school, making beef stews and pasta sauces in its room interior, all the while feeling like a real cook.
After school was over, I moved home for a few months, just until I figured what was next. What turned out to be next was a move to Philadelphia, in which I entrusted all my worldly belongings to the Amtrak cargo service (a great way to ship large items from sea to shining sea for very little money). The pot was too heavy, so it was left behind. I promised it that I would be back for it, and my sister took it with her to the house she shared with friends in Portland’s Ladd’s Addition neighborhood. Sadly, when that housing situation finally broke up, my old pot was badly burnt, and the lid was missing entirely. Knowing just how much enameled cast iron cookware cost, I mourned that piece but good.
These days, I don’t find myself mourning the demise of that pot as fervently as I once did, as I’ve discovered that getting married has been the cure for this girl’s Le Creuset woes. The stack you see above represents my cook pot array and I’ve also got a handful of other pieces in different shapes and sizes.
Lest you think our friends and family showered me in hardware, I must admit that the top three pots have been mine for awhile. The very smallest pot at the top of the stack once belonged to my mother. It is the only remaining piece from the set of Le Creuset that her Aunt Doris gave her for her wedding back in 1970. Unfortunately, she learned the hard way that cast iron enamel doesn’t take kindly to regular bleachings.
The orange pot one level down was part of a lot of vintage Le Creuset/Descoware I bought on eBay about a year ago. I don’t know exactly why I did that, but I do so love that little vessel. Next down is a more modern 5 1/2 quarter that Scott bought me for Valentine’s Day the first year we were dating (actually, the pot you see there is a replacement. The first one was flawed and Le Creuset replaced it under their limited lifetime warranty). Nothing says love like heavy duty cookware. Only the bottom two have been a result of getting married. But that doesn’t make me love them any less.
I do believe I am now set for life when it comes to cookware. At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself to believe.