Okay, let’s talk about something near and dear to every homesteader’s heart (and stovetop): cast iron. If you know, you know. These pans aren’t just cookware—they’re family. They’ve got personality. They’ve got history. They weigh enough to give you a solid bicep workout every time you move one from the stove to the sink. And if you’ve ever inherited your great-grandma’s skillet, you understand the level of reverence we’re talking about here.
Now, if you’re new to cast iron or maybe you’re still scared of using it (because yes, I see you lurking by your non-stick pans), don’t worry. I was that girl once too. Flashback to me scrubbing a brand new skillet with soap and water like a monster and then crying when it rusted the next day. We live and we learn, okay?
So, here’s the lowdown on how I actually take care of my cast iron. This is the real-life, muddy-boots, feed-bucket-in-one-hand version of cast iron care from someone who cooks on these babies nearly every day.
First, Let’s Debunk Some Myths
People love to make cast iron care sound like rocket science. Like you need a PhD in seasoning or a shrine to lodge pans in your pantry. Not true.
You can use soap….just not all the time, and not harsh chemical stuff.
You don’t need to season it every single time you cook—unless your idea of cooking is scrambled eggs on repeat.
And no, you do not need one pan for savory and another for sweet. I mean, you can if you want to. I just don’t have that kind of cabinet space.
Step 1: Use It. Like, A Lot
This is the biggest thing. The more you use your cast iron, the better it performs. Cooking in it over and over builds that magical thing we all obsess over—seasoning. It’s what makes the surface smooth, non-stick, and oh-so-gorgeous.
So fry your bacon, sear your steaks, bake your cornbread, and yes, even throw in a skillet cookie once in a while. The more fat and heat you give it, the more it rewards you.
Step 2: Cleaning Without Crying
This part gets a little controversial in the cast iron world, but here’s how I do it.
- After cooking, I let the pan cool slightly. Not all the way. Just enough so I don’t scorch my fingerprints off.
- I rinse it with hot water and use a scrubber—not metal, just a chainmail one or a stiff brush. If there’s stuck-on stuff, I’ll use a pinch of coarse salt to scrub it off like a little DIY exfoliator.
- If I’ve cooked something especially messy (like cheesy enchiladas or something with sauce), I might use a teeny squirt of soap. Then I rinse thoroughly and make sure it’s completely dry. No half-hearted towel-dabbing here. I usually throw it back on the burner for a minute to get rid of any sneaky moisture.
Step 3: Seasoning (Don’t Freak Out)
You don’t need to obsessively season your cast iron every time you use it. But I do a light touch-up after most uses just to keep it happy.
Once the pan is clean and dry, I pour about ½ teaspoon of oil into it—avocado oil, vegetable oil, or flaxseed if I’m feeling fancy—and rub it in with a paper towel until the whole thing looks glossy. Then I warm it up on the stovetop for a few minutes, let it cool, and it’s good to go.
If your pan is sticky after oiling, you used too much. Just wipe it out again. It should look like it has a light sheen, not like it’s auditioning to be deep fried.
Step 4: Storing the Right Way
Don’t just stack your cast iron with your other pots and walk away. You’ll end up scratching the surface and crying into your sourdough starter.
I keep mine stacked with paper towels or flour sack cloths between them. Some folks hang them, which I think looks adorable and very Pinterest-y, but my kitchen ceiling is like eight feet tall and I am not. So we improvise.
Also, always store it dry. Even one drop of leftover moisture can invite rust. And once rust shows up, it spreads like middle school gossip.
What If It Does Rust?
Been there. Don’t panic. If you accidentally left your pan in the sink for 24 hours (or someone else did… not naming names), and now it looks like it came off the Titanic, don’t toss it.
Here’s my no-drama rust rescue:
- Scrub it with steel wool or a scrubber until the rust is gone. Like, gone gone.
- Wash it well, dry it completely, then coat it with oil.
- Bake it upside down in the oven at 400°F for an hour with a baking sheet underneath to catch drips.
- Let it cool inside the oven. Boom. Reborn skillet.
Things You Shouldn’t Do (Because I’ve Done Them and Regretted It)
- Don’t leave food sitting in the pan overnight. Acidic stuff like tomatoes or citrus will mess up the seasoning.
- Don’t run it through the dishwasher unless you want to spend your Saturday restoring it from scratch.
- Don’t cook only lean foods. You need fats to keep that seasoning strong.
- Don’t store leftovers in it in the fridge. It will taste like metal and betrayal.
Favourite Things to Cook in Cast Iron
Okay, if you’re wondering what you should be making, here are my go-tos that always turn out amazing:
- Skillet cornbread with crispy edges
- Bacon and eggs (hello, breakfast perfection)
- Apple crisp in the fall—do it, trust me
- Smash burgers with that perfect crust
- Chicken thighs with rosemary and lemon
- And yes, cast iron pizza. Life-changing.
Final Thoughts From Your Cast Iron-Obsessed Farm Girl
Taking care of cast iron doesn’t require a degree in metallurgy or a spirit guide. It just takes some basic habits, a little common sense, and the willingness to mess up once or twice and laugh about it later. Like most things in this homestead life.
I’ve dropped pans. Burned stuff. Accidentally boiled water in one (don’t do it). But over time, I’ve built this little collection of cookware that feels like it’s part of the family. And every time I grab one to whip up dinner, I feel connected….to my kitchen, to the women who cooked before me, and to the cozy, crackling, imperfect joy that is this life.
So if you’ve got a cast iron pan lurking in the back of your cabinet, pull it out, give it some love, and start cooking. You don’t have to be perfect. Just be a little greasy and very stubborn. Works for me.