A few weeks ago Dancing Mandolin Player asked a bunch of us if we would want to go to a Dutch Oven Cooking Class.
Of course we said yes. Gardens had been planted. Company not arriving yet. Summer weather was still a few weeks away.
In other words, we had the time.
And the inclination. Or was it curiousity?
I am having a hard time blogging, due to this much-detested 14″ HP computer I bought last summer for my lake house office. I have so much trouble loading photos. And today I have spent over an hour just trying to post the above picture of Dutch ovens. iCloud is telling me my pictures will return when I am online. Even though I am online.
Daughter-in-law Amber helped me do an end run around iCloud by saving photos to my desktop, so hence the photo here. It might be fuzzy, though. I can’t tell. The photos seem too small.
I don’t know what to do to solve this.
Back to Cast Iron Cooking…
Five of us descended upon the cooking class, which was north of the lake and in the middle nowhere (in a good way), past horses and barns and fields of growing things.
Julie was a great teacher. The woman knows her stuff. We heard she often does trail rides and packing trips.
We made fourteen things. FOURTEEN. From beef to chicken to chocolate cake to pizza. And homemade rolls. The pots were stacked four high, with ten hot briquettes on the bottom of the pot and twelve on the top.
And a few hours later we were ready to eat.
And the pans were empty.
It was a fascinating four hours. I learned something I never thought I would. And now I know how to cook just like the cooks on the chuck wagons did back in the cattle drive days.
We were all very impressed–with the food, the teacher and the amazing techniques.
And we could survive without electricity if we had to. Which is a good thing to know.