I grew up with two older brothers. As a young girl, I looked up to them and this admiration resulted in me developing a crude sense of humour. My sense of humour wasn’t inappropriately crude, but rather crude as in: farting jokes are funny. It was at a young impressionable age that my brother first introduced me to a Dutch oven by giving me a firsthand experience.
He asked, “Do you know what a Dutch oven is?”
“No.”
Then, he passed gas under a blanket and pulled it over my head. “That’s a Dutch oven.” He informed me.
Now, you may think that I was upset and grossed out. I wasn’t though, I thought it was funny and it became an inside, almost ‘secret,’ joke between the two of us to know what a Dutch oven was. For probably fifteen years of my life that is all that I knew of a Dutch ovens.
I grew up into a young lady, lost a bit of the crudeness in my sense of humour- unless I’m around my brother in which case it comes out full force again as we chuckle about this and that,- got married and moved to Japan.
As we were moving to Japan, my husband and I asked for gift cards instead of actual gifts for our wedding. Upon our return to Canada, we didn’t have much for cooking ware and went shopping. One of the things on our list was a set of pots. As we were looking at the contents of the different sets, I was surprised to see the name “Dutch Oven” on pretty much all of them. The box would have the name of the pots and how many quarts each of the pots contained.
I quickly figured out that this is a Dutch oven:
It took me until I was 25 years old to learn what a Dutch oven actually is. After shopping, I came home and did some research about why a Dutch oven is called what it is and so on. Soon afterwards, I was talking to my brother and thought I should let him in on what I had learned. As it turns out, he always knew those pots were called Dutch ovens, somehow I was the only one left in the dark on that one.
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