Yes, I’m in love with a pan. It’s my mother-in-law’s pan. I make her a fried egg in it every morning. Her only instruction, “crispy around the edges”. It’s a Wagner Ware 6 1/2″ skillet. Did I mention I love this pan? It’s probably 40 years old – well seasoned and smooth as a baby’s bottom.
1 tsp butter
Heat pan with butter. Crack egg into hot pan. Fry until crispy around the edges, flip and fry again.
Here is a poem I found about cast iron…
By Sean Patrick Hill
There are things that could save us, undoubtedly.
My mother’s spider plant has lived longer than I have,
A woman I loved once,
who taught me to season a cast iron skillet, to seal it
from the weathering of water, air,
said, with the right care things might last,
but they didn’t.
The aloe you bought just after our wedding, think
how close it came to rotting when your father watered it
half to death.
It survived, but still resists equation to what has been
growing between us.
The jade we bought when our daughter was born is far
the litter of leaves, the empty limbs,
the house it can’t seem to adapt to.
If only more sunlight were a cure.
But such cures are more complex than oil cloth and shortening,
than a forgiving morning.
The fact is one wants things to preserve
themselves, given our natural inclinations
to neglect, or
the occasional, impulsive mistake.