Roasted

Merry merry!  Best wishes of the season.

 It’s certainly been merry here.

An important point about message fragmentation.  Here are 2 very
different messages, each starting with the same first chunk:

  1. We found the roasting pan we thought we’d given away.
  2. We found the roasting pan we thought we’d given away, but it’s
    not in fit condition to use for food preparation, you’d best bring
    yours again.

Guess which version of the communication I had, right up to the point
when I was hotting up the oven and ready to pop in the turkey I’d
volunteered to prepare  chez
les beaux parents
this year?  🙂 

The roasting pan was lurking under the shelves in the basement
workshop, a WWII-generation looking thing that had been gathering dust
for more years than I’ve been cooking. And the worst-looking kind of
dust (and rust).   There weren’t great alternatives, so I
consented to see what DH could do to clean it up — convincing him to
use cooking oil to scrub it with, not inedible WD40…  And when
successive wipes with a paper towel were still coming away with bits of
rust, I wiped it down with canola oil and threw it into the already hot
oven to seal it.   Apart from having to position a standing
fan by the oven to direct the inevitable smoke towards the windows
(away from the alarm-company wired-in smoke detector), that did the
trick rather nicely.

uboat

I’ve decided it has the character of a cast iron pan — a little oil
and TLC, and it comes through like a champ.

turkey

Note the rounded bottom — no nasty corners to catch and hide cooking
food.

I think I know the perfect home for this old champ.

A propos of nothing in
particular,   Christmas sunset over Waterloo Lake:

sunset

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