In 2003, an exchange student from Sachsen-Anhalt joined us for ten months. One of the recipes he brought were these lemony hearts.
Cast iron is niche cookware. Everyone acknowledges is advantages, but its finickiness scares cooks away. Sure, it holds heat and heats evenly, but it also heats slowly. Some say don't wash it, some say go ahead. Manufacturers claim their pans are pre-seasoned, but cooks still recommend seasoning.
The black iron dude writes about new cookware, antique cookware, caring for your pans, and the Paula Deen exploding cast iron pans.
That's right, I own and use a complete set of Farberware. I have one Calphalon pan my mother got on ridiculous sale back when Calphalon was The Pan to Have. Now All-Clad is The Pan to Have, and I wonder what all those Calphalon-owning home cooks have done with their sets. Have they thrown them out? Should novice cooks scour the yard sales?
Real foodies sneer at Farberware and its colleague Revereware. One commenter on a board wrote "I want my pans to last more than seven years." One must wonder what she does to those pans. Does she leave them empty on a hot stove? Set them on fire? I've done both and the pans, although scorched, are fine. My grandmother did neither, and nearly 70 years after she bought them, I'm still using her four-quart pot and double boiler insert.
There's an old saying: it's a poor craftsman who blames his tools. By extension, the best pot in the world won't make you a master cook. A bad pot that's thin and heats unevenly will make cooking extra difficult, but pots and pans priced in the stratosphere don't perform that much better than their mid-priced comrades.
The best cook that I know personally, food writer Anne Mendelson, uses Farberware. It's her attention to detail, experience and skill that makes her a good cook, not a $100+ pot.