Recently, on one of the food-oriented discussion boards I frequent, this topic came up: "If you were on a desert island and could have only ONE cookpot with you, what would you take?"

Those of you who have read this column for any length of time can easily anticipate that my first impulse was to grab something from my stack of cast iron pots and head happily off to cook snails with the rest of the "Survivor" cast.

However, after a few minutes' reflection, I had to reluctantly turn away from the cast iron, reach up on the top of my equipment rack and pull down my trusty wok. It's a hand-hammered cast aluminum beauty that my beloved Aunt Weta gave me for my high school graduation. Back then, I thought it was, well, a bit of an odd present. Little did I know that she was seeing the foodie inside me even before I knew he was there.

That wok has gone with me everywhere. It's been thrown in my truck bed for beach trips, has found its way into my luggage for road trips, been thrown into a duffle during a hasty midnight move (long relationship-gone-bad story, don't ask) and seen the interior of more U-Haul trucks than I'd care to remember.

Part of the reason for my wok's enduring usefulness is the ease of care. Like most aluminum pans, it will at a harsh glance develop a layer of bright reddish rust. However, with one pass of a soft brush or even a paper towel it disappears. Finally, after a few years, I learned that seasoning the pan much the same way I do my cast iron would keep it shiny, rust-free and almost as nonstick as the finest Teflon pan on the market.

Unlike Teflon pans, though, you can put my wok over the most blazing-hot stove burner without worrying about any toxic side effects. Like most woks, mine came with a burner ring designed to serve as a base to hold the pan steady and keep it from resting on the burner coil on an electric stove. I put the ring around my largest burner, crank it up to 11 and start tossing various food items within.

If you, like me, have a propane turkey fryer, take that big honkin' pot off the cooker and put your wok on there for a little outdoor wok action. I find this method gets me the closest to the sort of gas-fired Armageddon-level heat generated in the woks at your average Asian restaurant.

The beauty of the wok is the shape. It functions much like a lens, focusing the highest heat right in the bottom while leaving the upper edges cool enough to "park" items that need to cook more slowly. Some wok kits even come with small metal racks that hang from the edge of the pan and let you do so even more conveniently.

Naturally, the first use you'd think of for your wok is Asian cooking, especially stir-frying. However, did you know that wok, with a domed lid, is also the greatest popcorn maker known to man? It's also a great soup pot, spaghetti cooker, egg poacher, deep fryer, salad bowl and, for when those kitchen percussion sessions strike, a really wicked drum.

What's your favorite use for your wok? Let me know.

Recently, I discovered a new wok that I'll be adding to my cookware collection as soon as possible. It's got a long wooden handle, which facilitates using it over campfires for beach- or streamside fish cooking or outdoor popcorn nights. It's available in the camping sections of most larger sporting goods stores.

One of the easiest and tastiest things to cook in a wok is fried rice. However, it's a little tricky until you get the steps down right. It's only been recently that I've mastered the technique and started to turn out an end product equal to or better than what I get from Speedy Wok down the street.

This is a nontraditional recipe, in that it does NOT have the scrambled egg added. I don't particularly care for it, and it's just extra fat and calories that to me don't add to the overall impact of the dish. If you like them, by all means scramble up a couple. Do them in the wok first, then take them out and set them aside to mix in during the last minute of cooking.

The most important thing in stir-frying is to have EVERYTHING ready to go before you heat the wok. In proper cooking terms, this is called a mise en place. Things happen very quickly once you start cooking, and your primary focus must be the wok. If you let the food sit for a minute while you root in the refrigerator for soy sauce, you may end up with burned rice.

Ham Fried Rice

4 c. cooked white rice, refrigerated (leftover rice, get the idea?)
1 c. diced turkey ham
1 c. diced carrots
1 c. frozen green peas
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp. peanut oil
1 tbsp. dark sesame oil
1 tbsp. tamari soy sauce (or to taste)

Crumble the leftover rice into a bowl, making sure to split it into single grains as much as possible. Break up any and all chunks without fail.

Put wok over high heat and wait until a droplet of water dances and vaporizes immediately. Add 1 tbsp. of the peanut oil, then add the rice. Stir-fry until it begins to brown, 3-5 minutes. Do NOT stop tossing the rice at any point. It will burn.

Remove rice back to the bowl it came from and set aside. Add remaining peanut oil to hot wok. Add carrots, garlic and peas and stir-fry 2 minutes. Add ham and stir-fry another 3 minutes.

Add rice, sesame oil and soy sauce. Stir-fry another two minutes or until thoroughly heated and browned to your taste.

Consume in vast quantities.

Got a recipe to share? A topic you'd like to see covered? Large quantities of food you want to feed me? Drop me a line anytime!