I don’t really consider a probe thermometer in the first tier of kitchen instruments, like I do a sharp knife and a sturdy pan. It’s a nicety, something you acquire when you want to add a little more precision to your cooking — you don’t need one when you’re roasting a chicken, but it sure does eliminate the guess work.

The basics of a probe thermometer are these: a metal probe, about six inches long or so, gets inserted into a piece of meat that you then put in your oven or on your grill to cook. A wire several feet in length connects to a device with a readout that tells you the temperature. Usually you can set an alarm to go off when the probe hits a certain point and you don’t have to worry about over or under cooking dinner. Once you start cooking according to temperature, instead of time, you’ll never go back.

Simple though this may sound, most probe thermometers are garbage. They run about $10-$15 and aren’t worth a tenth of that. I’ve burned through three or four in the past few years, trashed for being burdened with complexity and underprivileged in functionality. Most simply crap out after a few months, inexplicably.

Having suffered yet another failure, I was recently in my local kitchen supply store resigned to dropping yet another ten spot on yet another soon-to-be-junk thermometer when I spotted the OXO Good Grips Digital Leave-In Meat Thermometer. I honestly don’t own much OXO gear, I’ve never really liked their aesthetic and I think they tend a bit too much towards the gadgetiziation of our kitchens, though I do admire the thought they put into their designs (Company President Alex Lee talked about OXO’s design philosophy at the 2008 Gel conference). I was intrigued because not only was this a $40 thermometer but the shape, long and rectangular with about half the number of buttons, stood out immediately. Despite the expense, I decided this would be my next thermometer.

Where most of the readouts I’ve used are stout and squarish, this one is sleek and long. Turns out there’s a good reason for this as the probe fits right inside the display with the cable wrapping around the outside for a single, compact unit. Brilliant! No more sticking myself on a rogue probe in my gear drawer. The interface is wonderfully simple — a button for temperature, one for a timer, up and down keys, a confirm and reset button. There are controls along the top for flipping between Celsius and Fahrenheit and turning the alarm on or off. The last model I had had twice as many buttons molded in plastic that only worked on every other press and all sorts of bizarre, difficult to explain features and modes.

Setting the temp couldn’t be easier — you can either pick your own or choose based on the type of meat and desired doneness. Happily, the good people at OXO have decided to include both the official USDA doneness temps and chef-suggested ones that will help ensure your food is safe but not overdone. It will mean the difference between a perfect steak and one that more resembles beef jerky. Accuracy seemed to be spot on, I boiled a pot of water and it registered between 211.7° and 212.2°F, a level of fluctuation I consider perfectly acceptable for cooking at home.

My only concern was the silicon coated cable and whether it might melt in the oven; other probes I’ve used sheath their cables in metal. OXO says their cable is fine up to about 475°F, I tested it in my oven at 450°F for half an hour and didn’t have any problems though I’m not sure I’d venture much higher. I do most of my roasting between 350° and 425°F so I’m not so worried.

Considering I’ve probably spent around $50 on probe thermometers through the years, I’m hoping that this investment might be the one that finally pays off.

As far as kitchen utensils go, it’s certainly hard to beat the utility, affordability and time-testedness of the cast iron skillet. It’s one of the few pieces of kitchenware that has resisted improvement for centuries; it’s an apostasy to the modern cult of the kitchen gadget obsessed. If you don’t own one, you probably should, though this directive isn’t without controversy 1 — some cooks think the maintenance is more trouble than it’s worth.

Cast iron is cheap, will last forever if you care for it properly and can be found just about anywhere. I’ve seen skillets in grocery markets, high end food emporia, hardware stores and camping catalogs. You can, of course, buy one online. In the U.S., Lodge makes a wide range, and has since 1896. The most marked improvement in the development of the cast iron skillet is that they now come pre-seasoned, meaning you don’t need to rub it down with fat, heat it, and let it cool down before you can use it for the first time, though you should later (more on seasoning in a moment).

(To be perfectly clear, we’re talking about gray-black iron pans here, not the brightly-colored, and much more expensive, enameled cast iron you may have seen sold by Le Creuset or Staub, which are also excellent but meant for another post.)

As for versatility, it’s hard to find a better deal. You can bake, roast, sauté, fry and broil in a skillet. Cast iron will work on electric, gas and induction ranges and is particularly well suited for a hot oven. A properly seasoned model will be non-stick enough for eggs without all the worry of teflon. You can set it on your stove to fry chicken legs or in an oven to roast a whole bird. All for less than $20 new. As luck would have it, though, cast iron skillets get better with age and seeking out an old, properly cared for pan is well worth the effort; you can usually find good ones in antique stores or garage sales for $10-15. Look for anything 8-12” in diameter, all iron (no wooden handles or plastic knobs, please) forged as a single piece, preferably with a pour spout on one edge and a second helper handle opposite the main one for negotiating while full. A lid that fits nice and snug is worth having but not strictly necessary.

Because your skillet is a single piece of heat conductive metal, the handle will inevitably heat up — you’ll want to use pot holders or, better yet, a dry, heavy duty kitchen towel folded over on itself several times. A good kitchen towel is worth keeping on you at all times, preferably slung over your shoulder for ease of reach and maximum kitchen fashion cachet. Keep the towel dry, otherwise the water will heat up and could burn you.

It’s best to avoid cooking highly acidic foods in cast iron, especially for long periods of time, as the acid tends to eat away at the seasoned coating. Save your tomato-butter sauce for (preferably anodized) aluminum or stainless steel pots.

If there’s anything at all controversial about cooking with cast iron, it’s the proper way to clean it. You may have heard tales of someone’s grandmother who never cleaned her skillet, not once, just wiped it out with a rag, which is the secret to her amazing fried chicken. Personally, I don’t put much faith in this theory, if only because the thought of generations of rancid grease in my pan doesn’t strike me as particularly appetizing. My process goes something like this:

  • drain off any leftover grease, wipe it out with a paper towel
  • drain the sink of any leftover soapy, scummy water
  • rinse the pan with hot water then scrub any stuck on bits with a synthetic brush or, better, folded over heavy duty paper towel
  • DO NOT use soap, harsh cleansers, brillo, barkeeper’s helper, steel wool, etc.
  • dry immediately with a paper towel
  • apply a light coating of a neutral oil, like canola (NOT olive oil) with a dry paper towel while it’s still warm
  • let the pan cool completely
  • wipe down one last time with a paper towel to get rid of any excess oil, store in a dry place
  • DO NOT leave your cast iron in a sink full of water and absolutely DO NOT run it through the dishwasher.

This process, which is really much easier than it sounds, will continue to improve your skillet’s seasoning. Just remember that cast iron will start to rust in a matter of hours, or less, if left in water. You certainly don’t want to season your cornbread with rust, do you?

Occasionally, maybe once a year, you’ll want to season your cast iron to help develop its non-stick qualities. Seasoning is a process that superheats fat so that it breaks down and then reform into polymers that bond with and coat the surface of your pan. Because oil is by definition hydrophobic this creates a natural, non-stick surface on your pan — the French Culinary Institute has more about the science of cast iron cookware if you’re interested.

To season, set your oven 400°F then wash and completely dry your pan. Coat every surface with a neutral fat like melted vegetable shortening or even (melted) lard. Put a foil-lined cookie sheet on the bottom rack of the oven (to catch any drippings) and then put the pan upside down on the top rack of the oven. Bake for an hour then let the skillet cool in the oven.

A well-loved cast iron skillet will almost certainly outlive you. If you take to the skillet, you’ll likely want to explore cast iron grill pans, dutch ovens and griddles.


  1. In fact, there’s even disagreement among the proprietors of this very blog about the necessity of cast iron — half of us find it to be completely indispensable, the other a fussy and overbearing piece of equipment. We’ll leave the final decision up to you. 

While not a coffee drinker myself, I’m married to a caffeine junkie - one whose wish list this past holiday season included an espresso maker. So researching I went, and I’m back from weeks of pained review-scoping to tell you that the general consensus is such: if you’re looking to spend less than, oh, $1,500, espresso makers are sort of a lost cause.

Every model seems to get the same complaints: inconsistent brewing, weird controls, wonky housing that’s hard to clean, unreliable hardware that fails in a matter of months. Even when I considered that for pretty much ever household item and electronic gadget there’s a loud minority who have had a bad experience, this was still worrying - what’s the workhorse of affordable, casual espresso makers?

The answer is a bit surprising - it may be this odd-looking little thing called an AeroPress. A hybrid design between a drip brewer and a French press, it’s a small, $30 set consisting of a chamber, cap, and plunger, which you position over your cup and then apply gentle pressure to press your coffee through a filter. It takes up no counter space, requires no electricity, has no moving parts, and is as easy to clean as a measuring cup. Sure, you have to buy filters; a year’s supply will set you back a laughable $6.

But how’s the coffee, you ask? Once again, I’m not the world’s biggest coffee drinker, but the AeroPress, combined with a frother, makes the best homemade latte I’ve had. My wife loves it, as do several friends who have them. It’s also recommended by Cooks Illustrated. At $30, you don’t have much to lose, really. I hope you find you’ve found a winner, though!


I’m going to hazard a guess that more than a few of you are interested in Moleskine’s latest collection of fancy notebooks, in particular the recipe and wine journals. Sure, it’s a notebook, but they’ve actually made an effort to include features that would be useful in the kitchen, like conversions and labels to help you organize. I keep a standard, lined notebook in the kitchen for jotting down notes, it’s one of my most helpful kitchen tools.

You can, of course, find the recipe and wine journals on Amazon.

Mine arrives this week and you’ll be seeing more about that here. Gizmodo likes it, says once it gets smaller and cheaper, it’ll be the next microwave.


I use my silicone spatula entirely too much, with almost decadent frequency. It folds my doughs and batters, cleans my bowls of leftovers, stirs my sautés and stews, and helps sauces out of jars. It’s a comfortable and, what’s maybe more important, nearly indestructible tool.

Let’s get our nomenclature straight, since tools called “spatula” are many and significantly different. Every manufacturer christens accessories their own way, and there are regional variations as well. Here’s what makes sense to me:

Turners or flippers have angled handles and flat bottoms, sometimes slotted for draining. This betrays their primary use: turning and removing fried foods from oily pans. Scrapers are sort of the opposite, in that you would not dream to use these near hot foods, EVER, NEVER. They are made of rubber, low-heat silicone, or another head-insensitive material. Unless you’re sure that your spatula is heat-resistant, assume that it’s not. Use plastic scrapers for stirring doughs and, well, scraping!

And finally, there’s the subject of today’s piece: the silicone spatula, which ideally combines the best qualities of its cousins. It’s lightweight, straight, with a comfortable and long-ish handle, and its head is made of heat-resistant, stain-resistant, odorless silicone.

As with every kitchen tool, hold the spatula in your hand before you buy it. Is it comfortable? Are there any sharp seams in the plastic of the handle? Press it against a hard surface - does it gives slightly, but not too much? Can the head be removed? (Unless it’s a single-piece design, which I’m not sold on, you’ll want to wash the inside of the head.)

Some things I’d avoid:

  • Metal handles - they’re usually uncomfortable, and since the idea here is that you’ll want to use the spatula around hot stuff, no point in bringing heatable material into it.
  • Plastic handles - I rest my spatula on the edge of the pan, so it shouldn’t be meltable. Wood or silicone work well here.
  • Single-piece designs - all-silicone construction with a metal rod reinforcing the handle. Easy to clean, but, you run into the “Whoa I’m holding a hot piece of metal” problem again.
  • Did the head stain or burn the first time you used it? Back to the store it goes.
  • When it comes to to heat resistance, I wouldn’t buy anything rated below 600 F.

So what do I use? The Le Creuset Medium Spatula. Its rounded handle feels great, the head is solid, and the whole thing is shockingly cheap (and not just for Le Creuset). I also have a small one for finer tasks, like scraping small jars. Cook’s Illustrated likes the Rubbermaid scraper; I’ve used it and it felt fine. I’m not ashamed to admit that the Le Creuset is dearer to me because it looks nicer.

By the way, a generalization about the average kitchen: it has too many tools. When considering new purchases, I try to follow the same rule as with new shoes: if you buy something new, donate something old. Buy smart and you’ll end up with long-lasting multitaskers instead of trendy once-a-year gadgets.

Happy stirring!