The Griddler

I miss having a real griddle.

Image by Soup Served / DEFEHR fotoIn my last year of college, I lived in a "basement" apartment in New Orleans. I put basement in quotes because houses in New Orleans don't have actual basements. The apartment I lived in was under the house, but it was still well above ground level.

This apartment was incredibly cheap, but it was really nice. The older couple who owned the house had kept it for their son. He was a doctor who lived several states away. He'd come visit once a year or so, and they finally decided that it didn't make sense to keep an entire apartment just for him. I was the first person they rented the place to.

This apartment had a nice, if small, kitchen. The appliances were all from the 1940s or so, and the stovetop had an enormous griddle built into it.

I loved that griddle. Now, I just have an electric one, which I rarely use. It works, I suppose, but it lacks both character and convenience.

I was reminded of my griddle while reading Kenny Shopsin's Eat Me. Shopsin devotes a great deal of space to the fine art of griddling. It is something he seems to have studied fairly seriously.

One thing that Shopsin recommends is to season your griddle. The method here is more or less like seasoning a cast iron pan. His other big recommendation? Make sure your griddle is hot enough when you are cooking pancakes. He suggests heating the griddle until a drop of water will bounce off the surface.