Sex and the Skillet...

A bloke needs equipment. Big chunks of metal dotted about the kitchen, big shiny used looking knives and things blackened by heat and smoke. Dangerous looking things that only a trained professional or a mad man would use. Basically a bloke's kitchen needs to have a hint of the garage to it. Now, I am useless with cars, never learnt to drive one, never owned one, (obviously) and only have a vague idea of what goes on under the hood (a years half remembered mechanical engineering at high school, compulsory where I went since otherwise the kids would leave not knowing how to hotwire the car they were about to steal) but I get the attraction. I'm desperately trying to think of ways to use an acetylene torch when I next make creme brule.

Anyway, one of my best loved bits of kit in the kitchen is my square grill skillet. It's everything a piece of kitchen equipment should be as far as I'm concerned. It's black, it's heavy, it gets frikkin hot and best, best of all, you have to season it when you first buy it. You actually have to burn stuff in it, make smoke to make it ready for use.

"Like an ancient Japanese sword maker I must use fire and stuff to make this skillet ready for meat!" was my cry. I was probably getting a bit carried away.

Anyway, it's bloody great and gets me out of having to do much work on a week night. Get some lamp chump chops, brush em with oil, some rosemary, a squeeze of lemon, slap them in that skillet and throw in some roasted red peppers (capsicums), sear lovely dark lines into both and I'm done. Dinner in about 10 minutes and it's always a treat.

In fact this one's going over to Dr. Biggles @ Meathenge as my entry in his weekday meal competition.