My Soap Box

I just read that four boxes keep us free:

The Soap Box

The Ballot Box

The Jury Box

 The Cartridge Box

Keeping this in mind, I would like to exercise my right to the Soap Box and mention something that’s limiting my freedom: my Pampered Chef pizza stone and my cast iron griddle.

I utilize both of these kitchen items regularly and yet I struggle every time with the clean up. I get it that you’re not supposed to go after them with soap and such, that the build up of oils act as a “seasoning” for the baking…

… but truly, it’s gross.

My pizza stone has burn marks from pieces of cheese. And if I can see a mark on the stone that means there is a bit of decomposing cheese stuck to the very same surface I’m using to feed myself a freshly cooked pizza. That’s just not right.

It’s the pure fear of eating pizza that tastes like Dawn soap that keeps me from scrubbing away at that stone. And I have to admit, really quietly…

I put my pizza stone in the dishwasher once.

Did you hear something? No? Me, either.

The cast iron griddle offers the same conundrum for me. It sits in my sink after use for many hours while I decide if today is the day I’m going to break out the steel wool and go to town. Right about the time my hand itches for that strange combination of SOS pad and blue soap I think of the joy my husband had when we opened the box to that griddle (it was a wedding gift) and he imagined the character it would gain as we used it over and over for our family meals.

The voice inside my head says, “That’s salmonella, buddy, not character, it’s giving us.”

But, once again, I ignore the voice that screams “GERMS! GERMS! GERMS!” when I look at the pan, wipe it down thoroughly, and put it away.

I always heat it up to scorching hot before I cook anything new on it.

Why, oh why, must I actually take care of these kitchen items as directed? I can rebel in so many ways, and yet I’m inhibited when it comes to my naturally cleaning inclinations in this area.

It’s true. Life is just not fair.