Glass Top Stove – Best Tips To Protect From Cast Iron  

Whether you are a professional home cooker or an amateur, a glass stovetop is one of the must-have cooking equipment. If you do not have your own, you can click to look for the best cookware glass top stove and buy one. This is because it is easy to clean, has a sleek design and user-friendliness with the flat surface. However, a flat-top stove also brings some potential disadvantages, notably as the possibility of scratches. The question here is How to protect glass top stove from cast iron?”. Know what to do will keep your top stove always looking like new.

A Quick Guide on Choosing The Best Commercial Stove: 5 factors to consider (Review 2020).

How to Protect Glass Top Stove from Cast Iron?

Before knowing how to fix when scratches appear on your glass stove top, you need to know how to avoid scratches. Here are some tips for you to follow: Do not use cookware that is made of cast iron on stoneware and ceramic ones, because they usually have an unfinished and rough base that can easily cause scratches. This also means that you should use a spoon tray to hold all the utensils if they can burn or scratch the surface when putting on the glass top stove. Round-Bottom-Edge cookware could move or shift when sitting on the stove top, so it can cause scratches, flat ones should be more stable and safer. Moreover, abrasive cleansers or metal pads are not allowed when cleaning glass cooktops because scratches seem to have more chances to happen. You can use other soft materials for cleaning a glass top stove. Moreover, lifting and transferring the glass top stove from an area to another is also a good solution instead of dragging them; therefore, it will lessen the possibility of scrapes. When you pull glassware or metal pans from ovens or microwaves, remember to not put them directly onto the stovetop because the heat from them can leave unpleasant marks of discoloration on the surface. Place them in a wire cooling rack or a counter and when they are totally cool, no problem would happen.

A very important responsibility of protecting is to know how to clean glass top stove properly. Keep your cookware always clean is a good way to lengthen its lifetime and also makes it look like a brand new. I will give you some effective ways to clean your glass top stove. Firstly, whenever food spilling onto the surface of your top stove, quickly remove, clean and wipe them away. Any crumbs or boiled-over food will damage the products because if you don’t use specific cleaning methods, like using a wet soft cloth to remove the gunk, it becomes much more challenging to throw them away later. Another thing you should notice is abrasive cleansers or scouring tools can make scratchers more visible over time, so eliminating them out of your cleaning methods on glass top stove right now. As well as, for daily cleaning, vinegar, baking soda or water or a mixture could be the useful replacements of those abrasive cleaning fluids. Spraying directly on the area that has residue and dust and waiting for only about 1 minute then using a soft cloth to wipe them away, your glass top stove is now like a new one.

All you need to know about wildland forest fires but have not asked anyone yet

A report by Dr. Dominick DellaSala, Director of Forest Legacies underscored the need to acknowledge a concurrence with forest fire and proposed the best pathway is: confine ex-urban sprawl through land-use zoning; bring down home ignition factors by working from a home-focused viewpoint with home retrofitting for defensible space and vegetation management, rather than the wildlands – in context of logging to decrease fuels; thin little trees with prompt prescribed burning in ranches while prioritizing wildland fire boots use in forests far from homes; preserve more carbon in the ecosystem by shielding open forests from incentivizing carbon stewardship on non-federal lands and logging; and move to a low-carbon economy as soon as humanly possible. Anything less won’t accomplish the coveted aftereffects of climate-resilient forests with high biodiversity giving what might as well be called billions of dollars in ecosystem administrations.

The report pointed out the general impediments of ‘fuel reduction’ thinning, and damages to the ecosystem. Thinning lessens living space for canopy-dependent species like spotted owls, needs a far-reaching road network damaging to the oceanic ecosystems, can spread flammable and invasive weeds and discharges more carbon outflows than flames. There is additionally a low likelihood (3– 8%) that a thinned forest will experience a rapidly spreading fire amid the 10-20 year time of lessened ‘fuels’, so vast scale thinning recommendations that change forest conditions over expansive zones and discharge gigantic measures of carbon have a low possibility of ever influencing a wildfire. Thinning is rarely savvy, requiring open sponsorships or the business sale of extensive fire-resistant trees. In certain regions such as Klamath-Siskiyou and the Sierra Nevada, time since fire isn’t related with increasing fire chances because of fuel development—this is quite true on the grounds that as these forests grow old, they turn out to be less combustible. At regional scales, active management (unspecified types of logging) has been related to more elevated amounts of high-level fires, showing logging has a tendency to increase the chances of fire. In particular, thinning adequacy is reduced under extraordinary fire climate, the main factor governing huge flames.

Dr. Timothy Ingalsbee further stated, “Climate-driven wildland fires, the primary factor in the biggest out of control fires, can’t be halted until the climate changes, yet they bring about unnecessary expenses and firefighter dangers amid ineffective fire concealment. Funds used for suppression and widespread thinning would be better spent helping communities get ready for flame by means of defensible space.”

Dr. Dellasala went on to say, “fire is a natural phenomenon that has formed the biodiversity of dry forest over the West for centuries. Fire is just calamitous when it devastates homes or claim lives. Tragically, fire has been utilized as a reason for opening up a large number of sections of land of open terrains to unlimited logging in view of the false idea that logging can prevent future flames or can ‘reestablish’ forests that have consumed. Significantly, overseeing fierce fires for environment benefits isn’t the same as ‘let it burn.’ Instead, it includes checking out of control fire conduct at first, focusing on fire suppressions prone to spread to towns within, directing fires in the back-country within safe conditions, cutting flame lines closest to residential areas, and keeping firefighters safe.”

The report concluded in a confident tone, providing forest management alternatives that are good with western forest flexibility and fire-interceded biodiversity in an evolving atmosphere.

Clouds of Kyzylorda

Kyzylorda, Kazakhstan

Things everyone says: “My hometown is the worst.”

I am guilty of this myself, even though I am from one of the prettiest areas in the New York City radius. So when my Kazakh friends complain about being from Kyzylorda, a small town on the Syr Darya River in southern, relatively western Kazakhstan, I take it with a grain of salt.

On the other hand, Kyzylorda is in the middle of the Kazakh steppe hundreds of miles from the nearest city, the nearest point of interest being Baikonyr (where most of the world’s manned space flights are launched), although the actual cosmodrome is on land leased to Russia and you can’t just drop in unannounced. Further up the road (another hundred miles) there is Aralsk, the depressed ex-fishing town that used to be on the Aral sea before they drained a third of the water to irrigate cotton fields in Uzbekistan. What there is to see there now is an interesting history lesson and a “graveyard” of old ships, some sunken, some never taken out of the water when the sea receded.

The point I’m trying to make is: “Kyzylorda is in the middle of nowhere” is a totally valid claim. But that is only a bad thing if you don’t like it here and/or don’t have the option of leaving. For a few short days, I am enjoying it.

Almaty, the big city to the east, has me living under some majestic mountains and all, but also a blanket of smog that never moves. So my first love poem to Kyzylorda would probably be a hundred pages long and focused entirely on the subject of clean air. The air is so clean, you can see really far. The air is so clean, my hacking cough of two months got better as soon as I got off the plane. The air is clean because it’s really windy all the time, but it’s not so cold anymore so it certainly works for me.

It’s been raining off and on for the past few days, so my favorite clean air effect so far has been the clouds. In Almaty, every day is either clear or hazy with nothing in between. In Kyzylorda, every time I look up there is something to take a picture of.

Marin Headlands

One foggy San Francisco Sunday, I finally made it to the Marin Headlands. Stupidly inaccessible by public transit, the headlands have been the single most elusive day trip of my five-year Bay Area existence. It’s a beautiful area, a straight 20 minute drive from where I live near Daly City, and now I own a car so no more excuses.

AGENDA:

breakfast stop at sufficiently greasy diner in the Outer Sunset
mile-long hike out to the ocean
four-mile loop through the hills
run around like a hippy with flowers in my hair

Mountain View Cemetery

Took a walk in Mountain View Cemetery this weekend for some prime Bay viewing. It was too hazy to see across the water, but it is arguably the best place to go for views of downtown Oakland.

Mountain View is well known for its fancy mausoleums bearing the names of the Bay Area’s rich and famous, from the transition period between Mexican and American ownership of California (mid-1800’s) into the present day. A lot of the grave sites continue to be maintained by the descendants of the original families, giving the hillside a weirdly polished look.

Among all the old money and titans of industry, I do have a soft spot for the grave of Domingo (Domenico) Ghirardelli, founder of the Ghirardelli Chocolate company. To this day they make the only well-known high quality American chocolate.

Landfill-On-Hudson

Croton-On-Hudson, New York, USA

Croton Point Park is iconic in Westchester County. A long walk out to the grassy and partially forested peninsula yields stunning views of the Hudson River, south to New York City and north to Bear Mountain. The park is home to bald eagles in the winter, public campgrounds in the summer, the famous annual , and also 8.8 million square meters of garbage.

From 1927 to 1986 Croton Point operated as a landfill, receiving waste from all over Westchester and eventually growing to 113 acres in size. Situating an above-ground dump on a river that flows directly into New York Harbor should have seemed rather a bad idea even 90 years ago, but the real marvel is its continued operation throughout eras of increased environmental regulation. It was finally closed just in time for the county to be simultaneously sued by the Hudson River Fishermen’s Association and the federal government. In 1987 a federal judge called the site “an environmental time bomb.”

 

In the mid-90’s the landfill was permanently capped and redeveloped into a park. Today, one of the park’s defining features is a vast, grassy, and slightly lumpy hill that rises into view from the paved entrance road. Under the natural-seeming earth lies 225,000 cubic yards of sand and gravel, followed by layers of plastic liner and geotextile fabric. Under that, you’d find insulating composite material and more than five miles of piping for gas extraction. Under that, finally, is the trash heap. But you wouldn’t know it. Spending $40 million over 3 years, the county built a system that prevents water from leaching into the landfill, keeps waste from leaking out, and collects gases released from decomposition, which are treated and used to fuel park facilities.

Saving Croton Point was a long, expensive and hostile political process that took decades to achieve success. But in the context of the 6,000+ MSW (Municipal Solid Waste) landfills in the US at the time, it was relatively low hanging fruit. It’s easier to mobilize resources towards rejuvenating places of exceptional scenic beauty like the Hudson River Valley; Easier to draw attention to a site that sits safely inside the New York metro area; Easier to find the money when the community in question is rapidly transforming from a majority working class to a solidly middle class town.

It would be irresponsible and short sighted to simply advocate for moving our landfills elsewhere when ‘elsewhere’ tends to mean poorer, more rural communities with fewer means to stand up for themselves. No matter where you put your garbage, there will be human, animal and plant life adversely affected by it.

The real question is: How can we waste less?

Here are some thoughts:

Biodegradable “plastic”

Alternatives to plastic that do not use oil based petrochemicals are already being developed and many are completely biodegradable. Even in communities that do not have accessible composting, the plant based materials present less of a problem than traditional plastic, especially as more municipalities elect to burn their waste.

Recycling electronic waste

Recycling e-waste is complicated, expensive and difficult to automate. Working and non-working parts need to be identified and separated, as do hazardous and non-hazardous materials. A lot of human labor is required to do this effectively. But it needs to be done. Governments need to set aside budget or else instate taxes on companies that produce electronics to cover the cost of recycling.

Source reduction

Many forms of industrial production can be modified to re-absorb many of their waste products. Internal recycling mechanisms are paying off for companies that have the capital to set up the proper framework.

Croton Point Park and the surrounding area has largely recovered from its 70 years as an active landfill, but if other places are to be so lucky, waste management cannot be a zero sum game with new landfills being opened as others close. Waste production must in fact go to zero.

Art Murmur

Oakland, California

The Art Murmur First Friday art walk was one of my first bonding experiences with Oakland back when I mostly lived and breathed in Berkeley, and it remains one of those things I keep meaning to do more often. Tonight I dragged some people out and it was a success. We found: A vintage car show to wander around in; An improv metal band playing my favorite kind of noise, even though I know no punk/metal scene will ever take me back; Very spicy homemade tamales; Two prints to buy for $10 each; Sprawling chalk art, which I felt obligated to take pictures of because I’m sure it will be washed off tonight.

I have never had such a blast at Art Murmur before and I hadn’t gone there looking for any of the above. It’s grown a lot.

150 Years of Coney Island

New York City, New York, USA

Coney Island, the strip of land at the southernmost end of Brooklyn, is one of the most nostalgic places in New York City. The amusement park, which has been around in some form since the mid-1800’s, has been revitalized quite a bit in my lifetime. But it still has a run down old-timey quality to it that defies the modern steel rollercoasters and refurbished boardwalk.

Throughout the 20th century, the park has been threatened with demolition, re-zoning, and flagging attendance as beaches further out on Long Island became more accessible. But generations of Brooklyn residents have always come to its defense. On hot summer days in 2014 the boardwalk is as crowded as the old photographs from the 20’s.

Winter In Almaty

Almaty, Kazakhstan

Winter in Kazakhstan was not something I was entirely looking forward to. I knew temperatures could plummet to -30°C at night (-22°F if it even matters at that point), with far less extreme but squarely sub-zero days. I was aware that the already noticeable air pollution would increase as the heat was turned on (this is done city-wide, all at once). To top it all off, I’d heard one too many stories of people getting killed by falling icicles. After spending so much time reassuring family and friends that Kazakhstan is a safe place to live in terms of crime, it seemed obvious that I’d get killed by an icicle.

In practice, it hasn’t been so bad. Walking to my Russian class every morning at sunrise has been a little brutal, but walking back in the afternoon has been almost pleasant. The more ornate Soviet era buildings look like they were made to have a few centimeters of snow on top; Icing on a row of pastel colored cakes. The mountains, too, are drastically more handsome capped in white.

Today was a day that mostly resembled the picture I used to have in my head of living in Kazakhstan. With the snow on the mountains and clinging to the rose bushes in the parks (but not all up in my shoes), I walked to class listening to the only two songs I know in Kazakh on repeat. The guard at the school gave me some crap for not having a student ID (which I still have no idea how to get because no one will tell me). У меня нет (I don’t have) isn’t a complete sentence but I stared him down a little and he let me through. In class my teacher revealed that she had been sick all weekend and basically didn’t have a lesson plan. Instead she taught us an old Soviet lullaby with whimsical lyrics and a sad sounding melody. During the break I braved the cold to meet one of the Afghan students for a chai. Our teeth chattered while the plastic cups burned our fingers and we discussed our lessons in our broken Anglo-Russian made up language.

Kurmangazy Statue Almaty

I walked home behind a group of twelve-year-old boys along the post-blizzard street. They were playing that game where you kick a snow-laden tree while your friends are passing under and then run away before the avalanche rains down on everyone else’s heads. Despite predicting this in advance, I got caught in the deluge, along with a much older Kazakh man. I had neither the energy nor the linguistic ability to do anything but tuck my head down and wince against the sensation of ice sliding into my coat. The other guy took off like a shot, stomping angrily after the tree-kicker. What do you think you’re doing? Hooligan! he shouted and slapped him hard across the back of the neck. Sometimes I wish I was from a country where you’re allowed to hit other people’s kids if they really deserve it.

This afternoon, on one of the coldest greyest days so far, I visited Republic Square. If Almaty has a city center (it doesn’t), Republic Square is probably the best candidate. If you stand inside the Independence Monument and face south (pictured), you’ll see the Presidential Palace across the street. It’s not used as much since the capital was moved to Astana, but it remains a government building. The mountains rise up behind it along with the cluttered architecture of more recent decades. To your left is the Soviet style television tower, stuck like a pin into a picturesque cluster of hills. Almaty’s beauty comes and goes with the seasons and the smog, but it’s a city that never lets you forget what part of the world you’re in.

About those icicles though:

Icicles In Almaty

Nauryz Kutty Bolsyn

Sayram, Kazakhstan

Nauryz Kutty Bolsyn! (Happy Nauryz!) exclaims every neighbor, vendor and storefront window across Kazakhstan this week. Spring has arrived. The nation is on vacation.

In most Central Asian countries the spring equinox is celebrated as the beginning of the new year. In Kazakhstan specifically, people celebrate by eating, hanging around outside, eating some more, and playing a sport that vegetarians might not wanna watch called .

In a week or so of Nauryz (or Nowruz) celebrations, I was lucky enough to spend the second day in a majority Uzbek village called Sayram, just outside the city of Shymkent. It’s not a village I would have thought to explore— or would ever have been able to find— on my own, but a local connection of ours had invited us to a community picnic which would be the center of the Nauryz festivities for the town. When we arrived, he introduced us to some of his older students at the after school program where he teaches English, and they very graciously showed us around for the rest of the afternoon.

 

Sayram isn’t much to look at initially, but it is over 3,000 years old. The remnants of various empires dating back to its first contact with Islam (766 AD) are still visible, but you need to know where to look. The most obvious distinguishing feature of the town, even to the untrained eye, is the lack of Soviet planning. The streets curve in random directions while the town center sits on the same crossroads that have been used for centuries. In contrast the rest of Kazakhstan, I don’t think I saw a single building more than two stories high. So although most people spoke to us in Russian and there were a fair number of Ladas driving around, it was interesting to get a taste of a culture that passed through the Soviet era largely untouched.

I think we ate four lunches that day, one of which involved a bottle of red wine bottled in The Kazakh Soviet Republic (no date) along with a plate of lamb plov served from a steaming cauldron that could have fit twelve people inside. The cook proudly told us he had used 20 liters of oil that day as he gave the plov a stir with a paddle the size of a cricket bat.

Everyone we met wanted to feed us and there didn’t seem to be any shortage of food, so we just kept eating. Some kids brought us over to another table laid out by the local school where I ate my first pumpkin samsa (similar enough in concept to a samosa, but completely different execution). And our final meal for the afternoon was mostly just Turkish desserts.

It was the men from the Turkish Culture Society who took us perhaps too seriously. We were all asked up to the main stage of the event to address a small crowd while they were waiting for some musicians to get started. We obliged in English, Russian, French, German and extremely limited Kazakh, and I guess we were a hit. If I had known we would cause that much of a ruckus, I might have voted to spend another day in Shymkent instead, but we were finally able to escape the attention once the musical and dance performances began.

We can’t be the first out-of-towners who have ever stumbled into the village of Sayram during the holiday, but with everything we did turning into a public display of foreignness, it only took a few hours to wear us out. Our student chaperones were sympathetic, but adamant that we make one last stop at a drama theater that hosts Uzbek language productions. The director treated us like some kind of official European delegation and let us watch part of a performance for free. We understood very little of the production itself but the cultural importance of the theater was clear. The director showed us photos from the opening ceremony in 2003, attended by President Nazarbayev himself to promote his platform of support for ethnic minorities in Kazakhstan. We couldn’t quite escape before they pulled the staff photographer off work to come take pictures of us, but he didn’t really seem to mind.

[On an unrelated nerdy typography note, major shoutout to the creators of the SignPainter HouseScript font, which I used in my Nauryz postcard. Besides being a gorgeous font, it supports Kazakh characters “қ” and “ұ”! There are very few fonts, even those with cyrillic support, that include the extra letters used in the Kazakh alphabet and it’s literally a design issue in Kazakhstan. Look at printed things. You will see what I mean.]