Dutch oven workshop had cooking tips and more

It’s Dutch oven time again in Rathdrum, time to head down to City Park for some fun and the chance to meet some wonderful new friends.

Last year my husband and I took the opportunity to attend the fifth annual Dutch Oven Workshop sponsored by Rathdrum Parks and Recreation. From the moment we were welcomed by Rathdrum’s favorite Dutch oven expert and author of “Dutch Oven Cookery,” George Holcomb, to the minute he yelled, “Spoons in the pots,” later that afternoon, the day was just plain fun.

We began with classroom instruction as Holcomb introduced us to the fine art of cooking “with, on or in” the heavy iron pots called Dutch ovens. Resplendent as usual in top hat and vest, Holcomb’s expertise and witty repartee made the class entertaining. “If you’re in a hurry to eat, I suggest you go to McDonald’s,” he told the crowd.

We learned what a Dutch oven looks like, some facts about their history and where to buy them today. Holcomb informed us that 12-inch pots are the most versatile and that shallow pots “make bodacious sourdough biscuits.” He displayed an amazing array of pots from 20-gallon “big boys” to tiny ones used to “melt butter or make a roux.”

Holcomb stressed the most important thing to know about Dutch ovens, is how care for and maintain them. We learned they should never be washed. “Never, ever, wash your pot with soap … unless you are particularly fond of the taste of soap,” said Holcomb. He told us of the importance of presentation when serving others and stressed proper food-handling techniques. “Wondrous things lurk between 40 and 140 degrees Fahrenheit,” he said with a twinkle.

After a brief introduction to the utensils Dutch oven cooks use, including “a doodad, which is something of which you don’t know the name,” Holcomb herded us over to where members of the Northern Idaho Dutch Oven Group and the Inland Empire Dutch Oven society were busily setting up cooking stations. Each of us was introduced to a cooking mentor and began cooking up some vittles.

My mentor, Tom Saunders, put me right to work, showing me how to heat the charcoal briquettes (Kingsford is best) in a brazier. Next we started tossing ingredients into a bowl for our dish: Pineapple Upside Down Cake.

A couple of stations away, I could see my husband and his mentor, who were busy bonding after discovering they both had served near Fort Lauderdale during their time in the service, and throwing together the ingredients for a Santa Fe Sausage Casserole and Jalapeño Cornbread. Others nearby were working on lasagna, goulash, chicken pot pie and a 10-alarm chili.

I soon learned the fun was just beginning as smiling cooks shared friendly quips, jokes and a few stories of Dutch oven faux-pas with one another. One cook showed his wind break was made of old license plates wired together and quipped, “I finally found a use for something from California.” Requests for help were met with quick response. Nuts were found after an eleventh hour call went out, and when those biscuits sank in the chicken pot pie, someone offered some thickener.

We carefully greased our pot and poured in the mixture. Then, said Saunders, “It’s time for the secret ingredient,” and began liberally pouring cherry brandy into the pot. When I looked up questioningly he said with a grin, “It’ll cook off.” I nodded my approval and, under his direction, started the pot cooking by placing it over a bed of coals and then covering the lid with a carefully spaced number of glowing pieces of charcoal.

While our dishes cooked, we wandered from one cooking station to another, asking questions, learning tips and sharing a tasty morsel now and then. Throughout the day, it became obvious this was not a competition. These people were sharing an enjoyable day in the park with good friends, doing something they loved to do, and were happy just to share it with us.

Just when the mouthwatering aromas became irresistible, Holcomb hollered “Spoons in the pots,” the signal for us to remove the coals and take our dishes over to the potluck table where we shared a meal, getting a taste of as many dishes as we could carry on our plates. Except for a little singed area, my dish was the best, of course.