Mike Sved wrote:We checked out the Kitchen Queen and watched the Obadiah videos showcasing it but it was just too big for our little yurt. It looked and sounded like a really nice stove. We ended up with an old, abused Waterford Stanley that has been heating our yurt and cooking our food for 5 years now despite its age (35-40yrs) and various long-term injuries. Right now, I'm drinking coffee that perked on the stovetop while breakfast is cooking. I can't imagine a better life than this.
Kate Downham wrote:The enameled cast iron cookware is more common in Australia than regular cast iron, although it all comes from France. Enameled cast iron is my favourite surface to cook on.
In heritage displays here there's some old cast iron stuff to see, but I think it just stopped getting made here at some point, so the only way to get that kind of cast iron now is to import it from the US. There's not much of it around in second hand shops.
I also use the cast iron hotplate of the woodstove directly to cook things. It is so good for getting a good sear on steak when it's hot, and for cooking pancakes when there's not as much heat.
Kate Downham wrote:https://www.homewoodstoves.co.nz
I like these ones a lot. If I ever had to replace the Rayburn and had the budget for a new stove, I'd pick one of these.
Leigh Tate wrote:Janet, congratulations on your beautiful new cookstove! Mine is a Heartland Sweetheart, purchased because it was locally available at the right price. Needless to say, I love woodstove cooking. I've heard cooking on it likened to a conducting a symphony orchestra, and I have to agree!
Every wood cookstove is different, so it takes practice to learn its nuances. I assume you have an owner's manual for yours? That will help learning about the various dampers and their functions. I found it still took some experimenting, and will also say I'm still learning.
Not sure about the goose feather, except that it was probably used to sweep ashes and crumbs from the surface. (?) Do keep the cast iron surface well seasoned, just like a cast iron pan.
Kate Downham wrote:Top left is the firebox door. The firebox extends downwards to where the line is on the bottom left door, where there's a removable ash box. There's a grate in between these two compartments, and the lever next to them shakes it to give better airflow.
The round thing on the bottom left door is an adjustable air intake.
Top right is the cooking oven door. Bottom right is the warming oven, which can also be left ajar to dehydrate things.
Dan Boone wrote:When my family first moved to the Yukon river country in the early 1970s, the local Christians turfed us out of town (arranged for our rental cabin to be suddenly unavailable, about a week before first snowfall) when they realized my folks were heathens and uninterested in getting saved. We would have bounced a couple of hundred miles but for one old trapper named Mike Molchin who let us stay in a trapping cabin on some mining claims he wasn't using, about ten miles out of town. He drank nothing but Postum, and had hundreds of old Postum jars kicking around that he used for storing anything that needed to stay clean or dry.
He died about ten or fifteen years later of a rare form of liver cancer. Some years after that, it became known to science that the cancer in question was associated with aflatoxins, most likely to be encountered by humans in moldy nuts (especially moldy peanuts). This old trapper had jars of peanut butter in every trapping cabin along his trap line; if they got a bit moldy around the rim or under the lid, he'd just wipe away the moldy bit with his sleeve and spread the rest on his pilot crackers. He was seriously hard core. My father was convinced it was the moldy peanut butter that killed him.
My memory of the man is one of the unholy stench of blood and artificial maple. There's a Crescent brand of fake maple flavor called Mapleine™ that was sold back in the day with a recipe for boiling up with sugar to make a passably decent artificial pancake syrup. (We bought it and used it for that purpose, in the deep sub-arctic nowheres.) But fur trappers used to swear by it as a great mask of human scent; they would practically bathe in the stuff, and wash their traps in it, and rub it on everything to hide their scent when setting traps. And after a few bottles leaked in this man's pockets, and under the seat of his snowmobile, the smell mixed with his body odor and the scent of his fur-bearer carcasses and just followed him around like a signature cloud. It was impressive and deadly!