And so, though the All Clad roaster at Sur La Table sang the song of the siren, I picked up the less expensive Oneida version last night at the local wholesale club. I hesitated not over the price of the All Clad, but casting aside tradition. This old faithful friend has been replaced:
On the way home from the store, shiny new roaster taking the place of honor in the back seat, I thought about the old pan. I've had that old guy for 41 years. I think it was 41 years in July, maybe August. All I remember is tripping down the streets of the small town where I was working for a home builder, the summer after high school graduation, with my then-boyfriend. We made a "statement" of sorts, paying $1 for a roaster, at the sidewalk sale during Crazy Days - an unspoken plan for a future together.
Well, the future together didn't happen, but I kept the roaster. I married a different guy, and through all our years together, I roasted the holiday meats in this pan, and now I'm feeling a little fickle. Cast off the boyfriend, the husband, and now the roaster. Is that pan in the "fond memory" bank of my children?
Oh well - at $1, amortized over 41 years, I guess I've earned shiny and new, and it's about time that my dear Oldtimer gets a meal cooked in a pan without a past. Sure hope that turkey comes out golden.