Iowa's Largest Frying Pan
Iowa’s Largest Frying Pan is located in the small city of Brandon, Iowa, United States.
The pan was built in 2004 by men of the local community of Brandon. It took these men a little over forty volunteer man hours to construct the frying pan. It is made out of scrap steel that was donated by local farmers. The pan was originally built as a promotional tool for the Brandon Area Community Club’s semi-annual fundraiser, the "cowboy breakfast". They chose to build a large frying pan because the cowboy breakfast is cooked over open flames using mostly cast iron frying pans.
Read more about Iowa's Largest Frying Pan: Dimensions, Capacity, World Ranking
Famous quotes containing the words frying pan, iowa, largest, frying and/or pan:
“unless I can shake myself free of my dog, my flag,
of my desk, my mind, I find life a bit of a drag.
Not always, mind you. Usually I’m like my frying pan
useful, graceful, sturdy and with no caper, no plan.”
—Anne Sexton (1928–1974)
“When I was growing up I used to think that the best thing about coming from Des Moines was that it meant you didn’t come from anywhere else in Iowa. By Iowa standards, Des Moines is a mecca of cosmopolitanism, a dynamic hub of wealth and education, where people wear three-piece suits and dark socks, often simultaneously.”
—Bill Bryson (b. 1951)
“Figure him there, with his scrofulous diseases, with his great greedy heart, and unspeakable chaos of thoughts; stalking mournful as a stranger in this Earth; eagerly devouring what spiritual thing he could come at: school-languages and other merely grammatical stuff, if there were nothing better! The largest soul that was in all England.”
—Thomas Carlyle (1795–1881)
“A pleasant smell of frying sausages
Attacks the sense, along with an old, mostly invisible
Photograph of what seems to be girls lounging around
An old fighter bomber, circa 1942 vintage.”
—John Ashbery (b. 1927)
“When Pan sounds up his minstrelsy;
His minstrelsy! O base! This quill,
Which at my mouth with wind I fill,
Puts me in mind, though her I miss,
That still my Syrinx’ lips I kiss.”
—John Lyly (1553–1606)