Sometime early in our first year of marriage my mother gave us a four quart Dutch Oven, it was a Magnalite pot by Wagnerware. The pot was not new when we got it. My mother had gotten it with Green Stamps which means it likely dates back to the late fifties or early sixties.
There is no particular magic in the pot, but in the hands of a skilled southern cook like my wife, Glenda, things happen to ordinary food that are not of this world. If you think you can find find better food than what comes out of this pot, you had better back off on the spiked eggnog.
Since we are trying to eat healthier, the Magnalite mostly stays in the cupboard these days, but last night it made an appearance and a rather ordinary looking piece of beef became an extraordinary pot roast. If you have never had pot roast that can be cut with a fork, you should throw away all those guides to all the things you need to do before you die and start trying to find a great southern cook. The pot roast was only the beginning. No one makes better gravy than my wife. Sometimes I think I am a walking testament to that fact, but last night she out did herself and made the perfect beef gravy. My only contribution was slicing up the pot roast and creaming the potatoes which are an absolute necessity when gravy is on the menu. Of course I did do serious damage to the pot roast, gravy, potatoes and baby lima beans during mealtime.
I hope that sometime soon we have a FireFox revival, but this time they need to focus on recording the cooking habits of great southern cooks like my wife. Cooks like her know how to take White Halfrunner green beans, probably one of the most unappealing raw vegetables and turn them into a complete meal fit for a king when accompanied by homemade cornbread. They also undertand the secrets to pressure or vingear canning the beans so that nearly fresh tasting green beans can be served next spring when no fresh green bean is in sight. They make jellies and jams that put Mr. Smuckers to shame, and when it comes time for a holiday meal, watch out. I could go on for a long time about all the great dishes, but if I do, I will be raiding the refrigerator and I really want the leftover roast beef for lunch Monday. Avoiding a huge mid-afternoon calorie splurge is always a goal these days so I will resist and stop writing.
On the other hand, maybe I can convince her to take the Magnalite out for another drive before Christmans. There is no telling what delights will show up when southern talent meets up with the right tool.
Of course we still have my mother's Magnalite which makes ours look like a grandchild. There just might be some residual southern cooking magic in these pots, one could easily make that assumption, at least based on the interest in mother's when we cleaned out her house. I know if our house catches on fire, I will get Glenda out first, but then go back for the Magnalite.
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