Let’s Check in on Our Friend, Marietta.

This post is a bit belated. I’m writing it somewhat by request from someone in the Cast Iron Historical Society Facebook group, but also partly because it’s overdue anyway.

As part of the Cast Iron Field Guide, I repaired a Marietta skillet that was horribly cracked using a very old recipe for a “crack cement.” This was something I had used before, and something I’d spent some time thinking about well beforehand. There are several recipes floating around, most of which you have to do some digging to find because they’re not the most accessible of things.

Usually they’re in a random book about housekeeping from the turn of the 20th century and you can find at least a bunch of them on Google Books. You can also find them as part of discussions in several Facebook groups, probably on Reddit, and you can also find it and a step by step walkthrough in my book, the Cast Iron Field Guide.

Now…as much as I want you to buy that book because Everyday Anthropology gets a few dollars every time someone does, if all you want out of it is the crack cement recipe and images walking you through the process with a high level of detail on the whole experience, don’t spend the money, I’m going to include a download of that section excerpted from the book later in this post.

It seems almost impossible that I repaired that Marietta more than two years ago. But, I repaired it while still living on Ocean Street in Providence, Rhode Island, and that house was sold in February, 2022. So we’re possibly closing in on three years here.

And so here’s a nice check in with the skillet. It’s had a wild time the last few years, and while I don’t use it daily, it’s still probably my most frequent user because 1. I want to continue to see how the repair is holding up, and 2. The space available to store my collection right now is a bit on the humid side, which isn’t anywhere close to idea. Given that this repair is organic stuff, I don’t want it to grow anything.

Here it is cooking up some breakfast potatoes. I don’t call them home fries because I like my home fries crispy and these aren’t crispy. Anyway, yes, I’m browning my onions in a separate pan. I do that and then cook down the mushrooms in that pan because it keeps excess moisture from turning the potatoes into a soggy mess, but also because it has a subtle separation of flavors that I like to pretend is fancy.

Here it is after washing. You can clearly see the crack in the center with the contrast provided by the water.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me that this is the picture I took, but here we are. I dried the center a bit so you could see the crack. Then I apparently oiled the lens of the camera so it would be difficult for you.

From the bottom, things look about as you’d expect from a bottom gated skillet. It looks a bit of a mess around the gate–that’s the patch. It was pretty pitted and there was a hole all the way through that was big enough to stick a pen tip through. This skillet was garbage. Now it’s an excellent cooker that’s wonderful to use.

After our return from Germany, it was a month or so before we got it out of my in-laws’ storage unit. It was humid there and it was sitting there a while. My thoughts are that the changes in humidity made the cement start to let go a bit on some points. It started ringing dull when I’d knock. Now that it’s cooked 47lbs of potatoes since then, it’s ringing clearly again. I didn’t re-apply, I just scrubbed it well, oiled, heated, wiped, and then went and cooked. The slow seasoning process that occurs with cooking was enough to reseal it.

I haven’t cooked bacon in this thing since the patch was young, but I honestly have bacon maybe twice a year. I’ve got from being intentionally rough with it, to being intentional about not treating it gently. It’s been almost three years. It’s proved itself to me. It’s also very old and can relax a bit. It’s earned its retirement.

Anyway, here’s the recipe:

You need roughly 1 part wood ash (hard wood is best but any will do), 1 part well-beaten egg white (break it up so it doesn’t move as a single glob), and 1 part salt (I grind it in a mortar and pestle to get it pretty fine)–this helps bind the egg and ash so the easier it is to get into the salt the better.

Start with the ash, then mix in the egg white, with the salt last. Work it into a semi-firm but workable paste. Basically you want to be able to push this into a crack or hole without it slumping out.

Once it’s in there, you have two options. The first, and it’s what I’ve tended to do, is to dry it for 20 minute at 250° and let it cool before seasoning. What I would actually recommend is to let it dry completely without any assistance to let the egg and salt bind as firmly as possible.

Depending on how bad the crack is, this repair is going to weep a bit. It’s porous. Part of the beauty of it is that it allows the cooking oil to penetrate and then it polymerizes. That’s why seasoning after can be very helpful.

Now, for some cracks this paste can be tricky. Oil can get in and cause them to spread. You probably know that already. I have an Excelsior griddle that would’ve split in half if not for the heat ring. The thing to do here, although it sounds horrifying, is to find the very end/s of the crack, and drill them with a 1/16″ bit.

This might sound counterintuitive but you’re essentially ending the crack. If you have a crack up the wall of your skillet, can it spread beyond the top part of the pan? No, because the pan ended. Same thing here. There’s nowhere else for the crack to go. But, be careful and make sure you find the end of the crack. If you drill the thing early, you’re not only letting the crack continue on the other side if it so desires, you’re also compromising the integrity of the pan.

Brandon Pineo of the Antique Stove Hospital uses iron shavings and a neodymium magnet to pull the shavings through. When they stop pulling through, he’s found the end of the crack. Personally I’ve used a jeweler’s loupe with good results. Regardless, just be careful.

This method (or some variation) was incredibly common. There’s a good chance that some cracks occurred in pans so seasoned the owner didn’t even notice. There’s also a good chance that they were well aware of the crack and repaired it, and it never mattered again. Until some doofus in the 21st century dropped the whole thing in a vat of lye and then posted on Facebook that their exciting find is crack. I’ve been that doofus and there’s a good chance you’ve been that doofus, too.

Everything about my approach to iron is the same as anything from the past. I keep in mind that this wasn’t made for me, and it’s a privilege to be able to handle and use it. To me, this isn’t ownership, it’s stewardship and conservation. Anything I can do that bolsters that mindset and fosters it in others is a win for me. So if you’re reading this, please consider repairing your pans before cutting them up. I don’t care how common they are (or seem to be). They’re a finite artifact and we owe it to future generations to ensure they can be handled, studied, used, and generally enjoyed.

Anyway here’s the download. Enjoy! Feel free to share. I would prefer you let people know where you got it, but I’m more interested in people having the information.

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