The cast iron pot represents one of the most poignant memories of my childhood. Every Sunday, it was prepped for our after-church dinner: pot roast (our own beef — free from any hormones or preservatives), carrots and potatoes from our garden, a Jell-o salad with fruit cocktail, Zwieback (the Mennonite bread — a double decker roll as ‘zwie’ means ‘two’). The yeasty smell still lingered in the kitchen from Saturday’s baking. The addition of potato water grew the yeast into a shiny surface. Mom added some variety of pie for dessert. Often a pudding pie, chocolate or vanilla.
As we entered the house after church, the smells of the roast and vegetables announced their perfection. A slow cooking from early morning until the last ‘Amen’ of the church service. And the same cast iron pot every week for my entire life.
After Mom stepped into eternity, my sister asked what I wanted of her kitchen things. “The cast iron pot,” I answered. Boxing it up for the trip to Kansas, I could almost smell the aromas of memory. The treasure of an item, circa 1948, a wedding present for my parents that would outlast all of us.
I own a perfectly good Crockpot. But I rarely use it, especially now that I work from home and do not need to prep a meal in the morning that will be ready for supper. Now the Crockpot carries a bit of a bad vibe — after the ‘Fire’ episode of This is Us. Silly, I know, but still — we must pay attention to our emotions.
When I pull the cast iron pot out of the cabinet, it is usually for stew or chili. Several bay leaves add to the aromas of garlic, onion, and spices. The blessing of sustenance. A meal when so many in the world are hungry.
During a time in life when I regularly declutter and give away bits and pieces of my life, the cast iron pot remains in its treasured place in my cabinet. Heavy. Sturdy. Still useful and always a reminder of the farm where I grew up. The family that gathered around the oak table to bow our heads and give thanks for another Sabbath.
We must pay attention to the emotions of a lifetime and to the items that feed those emotions. For as long as we can. Because they remind us of the past, of our value systems, and of the people we loved.
©2026 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved
Image Attribution: krrajan / Pixabay
Check out the special meals Ruthie learns to prepare in Seeking the Land of Grace.