I know you all think I’m weird because I don’t like soup. But spooning hot liquid into my mouth (and spilling it down my face, because that’s how I roll) is not my idea of a good time. I do, however, have a fondness for stew. Especially stew with beer in it, because beer is a great tenderizer of things. And because I like beer.
I’ve had this stewing lamb in my freezer for a while and I decided it was probably time I do something about it.
So I took it out, put it on a plate, and patted it dry with a paper towel.
Then, in a bowl, I took a small scoop of flour, added salt and pepper, and gave it a stir.
Into that I hucked the lamb cubes, and gave them a stir as well.
I heated up my trusty cast iron skillet with a few tablespoons olive oil inside. Then, shaking the excess flour off the lamb, I plopped it in the skillet to brown.
While that was going on I cut up some vegetables: carrots, an onion, and a package of mushrooms.
I didn’t have any potatoes, that classic stew thickener, so I decided to use rice. This wild rice blend from Trader Joe’s is excellent.
I took the browned lamb cubes out and put them on a plate to rest a few minutes.
Then I added a bit more oil to the pan and chucked in the vegetables, giving the onions a wee bit of a head start in the cooking.
Once they’ve softened you can add the rest.
Now you can chuck the meat back in. Then I plopped in some parsley, Newfoundland savoury, rosemary, and thyme. If I’d had sage I would have used that, just to make up the lyrics to that “Scarborough Fair” song.
I also added a few more tablespoons flour.
At this point I ran out of space in my pan so I transferred the contents of the skillet to a larger saucepan. I used a bit of beef broth to deglaze the pan a bit and poured that into the pot, along with the rest of the beef broth (about 3 cups).
Then came two cans of Guinness stout (minus a sip or two, for quality control of course).
Then the rice.
Then I brought it to a simmer, lowered the heat, and let that gently bubble away, stirring every so often, for about an hour.
Excellent. Even more so the next day.
















































































Today we have the cast iron skillet. Actually, we have two, having purchased one 
This cake is my childhood. Or at least the part of my childhood where I didn’t think I was allergic to pineapple. Turns out it’s just the No Name brand of pineapple that makes me throw up. Who knew?
My mother has recently discovered the ease of email (crazy, I know, but we also bought our first touch-tone phone in 1991), so this recipe came to me over the interweb. The original recipe, for an 8″ cake pan, comes from a Fanny Merritt Farmer cookbook dating back a few decades, but my mother has modified it for the skillet, adding a bit more flour, sugar, and butter as appropriate. I get my lack of standardized measurements from her. Here we go.
Melt, in your skillet, between 1/4 and 1/2 cup butter. The butter should be liquid, but not boiling hot. Burns do not make for enjoyment in baking. I suggest you remove it from the heat at this time and put it on a trivet on your counter. More elbow room, for me at least.
Spread 1 cup brown sugar evenly over the butter mixture, covering the bottom of the pan. Add more if you like. It’s going to melt with the butter and turn to caramel, and it will mix with the pineapple juice and the cherry juice and it will all be so incredibly incredible. 
Drain a can of pineapple rings (or use a 
If you wish, you can put maraschino cherries in all the little empty spaces, especially in the centre of the rings. I of course do so wish.
Sift together 1 1/2 to 2 cups flour (depending on the size of your skillet) with 2 tsp baking powder and 1/2 cup granulated sugar. In another bowl, mix together 1 egg and 1/2 cup milk and add to the flour mixture. The batter will be very dense, so you can add more milk to make it more spreadable. I ended up adding about an extra 1/2 cup of milk to my 2 cups of flour. Feel free to experiment with the batter. My mother says she sometimes adds grated orange peel to it.
Carefully spread the batter in a thin layer on top of the pineapple in the skillet. You’ll notice that the batter doesn’t spread all the way across. There will be gaps and even holes through which you can see the pineapple stuff. That is okay, as it will expand while it cooks. And it will pull away from the sides, anyway, as the butter starts to bubble up.
Bake for 35 minutes or until the top is brown and crusty. If you are using a skillet this will likely take less time because the skillet is already warm and the batter is stretched across a bigger surface. For me this took about 30 minutes.

Carefully flip upside down onto a serving plate. Sometimes it’s easier to put the plate on first, then flip it. My mother has this old-fashioned brown one that I covet because it is the exact size of the skillet, but I made do with this cheese plate instead, which is why the melted sugar oozed everywhere. Some stuff may still be stuck in the pan, but because your now caramelized brown sugar is still liquid you can glue it all back into place before it cools. Make sure to get all the good stuff out of the pan before it cools completely or you will never get it out.







