New here but not to cast iron

GusFuhrer

New member
Been cooking in my iron for years, mostly outdoors. My grandmother passed last September and my aunt and family are just now closing out her estate. My aunt asked me since I was the only family member that she knew that used cast iron would I want my grandmothers skillets. Well DUH!!!!!!!

Just getting around to cleaning them up today. One skillet has a 8 on the handle, after about 8hrs in a lye bath it's looking a lot better. I now can see a 1 on the underside of the handle. I have a flat skillet I am going to do next, pictures soon.

Oh and I wanted to add. I am not worried how old or valuable this pieces are. They were handed down so that's enough for me.
 
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I am assuming that they are rather crusty or have been sitting unused for quite a while if you are lye bathing them.

I have heard many people say that they inherited their cast iron from their grandmother, and started cooking on it without any cleaning. 80 or 90 years of seasoning is a wonderful thing if it was done right and you know the pans history.
 
This reminded me of an ex-friend. Every year he would put his hollowware into a fire to clean it. Why? Well, that is what his father did, and by decree that is what his kids will do.

I have found that the uglier (read prettier) and more crusted (read seasoned) a piece is the better it cooks.

Hilditch
 
I love when I here that someone ended up with cast iron passed down from older family members. I wish that I could say the same, but I can't. I have, however, on several occasions, cleaned an old rusty skillet or dutch oven for friends and coworkers who inherited a piece from their grandmother. Makes me feel like I've helped connect them to a small piece of their past. Corny, I know.
 
Hey Jody,

Hardly corny sentiments at all. Being able to restore a piece that might be upwards to 100 years old or more, so that it's as functional as the day it was made (maybe even better) is a great thing. And to have that piece evoke great memories from its owner is frosting on the cake.

I just returned an old Griswold rectangular griddle to a woman, all cleaned and seasoned. The bottom was really sulphur-pitted and someone had fashioned a bail for it out of some 3/8" rod. Her memories of it were on her grandmother's cookstove in New Brunswick, making buckwheat pancakes. She started crying when I returned it to her.
 
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