A tedious post ... In Which I Document My Purchases. (Ah - if only I had thought of that category thirteen years ago.)
The induction stove only works with ferrous metals, so one thing I had to give away was Mom's giant aluminum stockpot. The replacement was a $15 Walmart stockpot.
That stockpot lasted five years, until this past Friday when I burned some apple pie filling in it. I went at it with the Brillo pad until I remembered that Facebook had been set on me buying a gorgeous stockpot via one of their ads. A stunning, heavy stockpot that would match all my other cookware. I scrubbed a little more before I said goodbye, old stockpot, you served me well this five years on, and we had many soups together, but now you have burned the apple pie filling and I can't look at you any longer. There are younger, hotter stockpots to be had.
And then, it turned into one of those Missed Connections personals. I had seen this mouth-watering photo of a stockpot, and I didn't go for it, and missed my shot at long-term stockpot happiness, because Facebook would not show me that stockpot photo again. After a day of searching I put this on Facebook:
Facebook kept mum. So I gave up on the Facebook Tease Stockpot (probably some bogus Russian stockpot put there to foment discontent), and paid an old-school in-person visit to the Bed Bath and Beyond. I found a friendly knockoff of an outrageously priced All-Clad Bells and Whistles stockpot set. Honestly, this one was a third of the All-Clad price. It was also three times the price of my original Walmart stockpot, as if there’s some stockpot logarithmic scale in which each level of stockpot is three times the price of the previous level.
I don't make bulk corn, or even bulk pasta, but I can see throwing bones and aromatics in the insert and later lifting it out instead of trying to strain 12 quarts of stock.
And yes, I did take careful measurements, first thing.