You might hear online or TV cooks say things like “braise the beef tips in a Dutch oven over medium heat” or “you’ll want to keep the fond in the bottom of the Dutch oven.” They are talking a about a much more genteel version of the Dutch oven than I know. The Dutch ovens you will find in the gear trailer of most troops are round, black, cast-iron pots with a tightly fitting lid, three stubby legs on their flat bottom, and a wire bail for lifting. They come in sizes from about six to 16 inches in diameter and are typically “powered” by charcoal briquets or hot coals from a fire arranged on the lid and underneath. 

I conducted some internet searches after that long-ago outing and learned that almost anything cooked in a kitchen oven can be cooked in a Dutch oven. Granted, it is more challenging than modern ovens with their built-in thermostat and digital timer. But the reward for your extra effort can be amazing. Because everyone knows, anything cooked outside tastes better.

It wasn’t long before I purchased a Dutch oven of my own and jumped right in. I downloaded an online recipe book and was soon experimenting with everything from cinnamon rolls and enchiladas to baked chicken with rice, pot roast with potatoes and carrots, and breakfast pizza. I learned to stack two or three ovens on top of each other to feed a big group or cook more than one dish at the same time.

Relatives gave me more of the cast iron cookers, cookbooks and accessories for Christmas and birthdays. I learned about how to regulate the cooking temperature by adding or removing coals on the lid. I learned (the hard way) that to bake perfect biscuits you need to place more coals on the lid than under the bottom. Soups and stews get more heat on the bottom than the top. 

I tested the relative merits of lining the Dutch oven with foil versus cooking directly on the iron surface. I found how easy cast iron rusts. I even fried bacon and cooked pancakes on an overturned lid resting on a bed of hot coals. Fanatics warned me to never, ever wash a Dutch oven in soapy water (lest your next meal have a sudsy aftertaste). They were wrong. One guru told me not to lift the lid to check on the progress of my masterpiece until the aroma seeped out around the tightly fitting lid. He was right.

This culinary adventure sprang from seeing a young man stir up a boxed cake mix, pour it in a big black pot, and produce something incredibly edible. I wouldn’t have thought it possible. It might have been one of the first times I was amazed at what young people can accomplish when you give them the chance. It would not be the last.

If I thought about it long enough, I could probably come up with some deeper connection between Scouting and the magic of Dutch oven cooking. But the real insight is simple: This old dog learned a new trick from a 14-year-old that has challenged, enlightened, and filled his belly for more than two decades. That’s connection enough for me.