Having been fortunate enough to have gone camping lately, I have been once more cooking on an open wood fire… and loving it.
It took me back to the first year on the Mountain, when we lived in a tent. Being in a forest, there was limitless wood for fires.
Four rocks and an old fridge rack did excellent duty as my stove, as I cooked our food in cast iron pans, and occasionally used a cast iron camp oven for baking.
It also heated the water, in billies made from pineapple juice tins, for our wind-down canvas bag showers. More simple luxuries.
A card table, with its upper legs dug into the ground in an attempt at a level tabletop on a slope, was my preparation area and our dining table.
Of course I was more agile 40 years or so ago. Not sure I’d be so happy now with the squattng and bending needed for this kitchen.
This drawing was done for The Woman on the Mountain, but we didn’t end up including drawings in the book, so it’s nice to revisit them… and to share them.
This more sophisticated Forestry model of fireplace that I used recently has a swivelling hotplate as well as a grill. I am still a fan of cast iron, and my blackened enamel kettle is meant for this!
And the smell of woodsmoke came back with me, in my hair and clothes, so I could savour the memories.