It's happened. The inevitable. I'm a grown woman with a career. I have raised two wonderful daughters and instilled in them the importance of kindness, respect and checking your clothes are the right way around. I should know better. And yet when I came across this little beauty on my Friday afternoon trawl my heart melted. It took me right back to playing kitchens when I was a gal with my little blue plastic tea set and a table full of hungry teddies (strangely the highlight of playing kitchens in those days was washing up with a miniature dish mop and a pudding basin - this enthusiasm has dwindled in latter years!)
Let us proceed one step at a time.
A fine handle if ever there was one, and fortunately matched by another on the opposite side.
Next up is the lid. Oh what a lid.
Enamelled flowers on a sky blue base.
Clean as a whistle (assuming you are a fastidiously clean whistle keeper).
Ready for the whole thing? Complete kit and caboodle?
Aaaaaah. Just - aaaaah.
I must admit when I first saw the pan of delight I thought it might be an ornament - perhaps something to be found on top of an old barge or, failing that, Snow White's kitchen. However I had a clue to it's origin. On the reverse side of the pan was a sticker with the manufacturers name.
'Twas a Kockums!
A quick trawl on the internet told me it was an old hand painted crock from Sweden (either that or the name of a rather large military shipyard but I prefer to stick with the former).
I have become slightly overprotective. Want to heat up some beans - not in this pan. Boil up some potatoes - I don't think so. Scrambled eggs - how dare you! This pan is only to be used for delicate and beautiful cuisine so if any of you out there can direct me as to what sort of food this might be I would be extremely grateful. Until then, if you happen to be in the area, just beware that if Mr K is making lunch you may here this echoing across the vicinity
'Get yer 'ands off me kockums!'