VISIT DAN & ERIC'S WEBSHOP

The Quiet Retirement of Two Brothers Who Changed Cookware Forever

After decades of craftsmanship, Dan and Eric are closing their workshop for good and opening it to the public one final time.

For more than three decades, brothers Dan and Eric quietly built cookware in a small workshop, far removed from mass production and marketing hype. Their work was known mainly to chefs and serious home cooks who discovered it through word of mouth.

Dan (left) and Eric (right) in their workshop. Picture by Jim Goldberg for New York News

Dan spent most of his life in professional kitchens, where cookware is used daily under extreme heat. Eric worked as a titanium engineer, developing materials designed for high stress environments. Despite their different careers, both kept running into the same problem. Even expensive pans warped, scratched, or relied on chemical coatings that eventually broke down.

“I kept replacing pans,” Dan said. “And at some point you start wondering why nothing seems built to last anymore.”

Eric (left) and Dan (right) in their early twenties, experimenting with their first test pans in a small workshop. Picture by Frank Miller, circa 1985.

A different kind of cookware

Years ago, the brothers began experimenting on their own. Dan tested every prototype in real kitchens, cooking with them day after day, while Eric focused on the material itself. Titanium quickly stood out.

Unlike most modern pans, titanium does not require nonstick coatings and does not contain substances such as PFAS, which have raised growing health concerns in recent years. "The big brands only care about margins not health." Dan says.

The metal remains stable under high heat, does not flake, and does not release chemicals into food. For Dan and Eric, that combination of durability and safety was essential.

Each pan took hours to make and finish by hand. There was no outsourcing and no mass production. The brothers deliberately kept their operation small, preferring control and consistency over rapid growth. “If we could not make it properly, we would rather not make it at all,” Eric said.

Eric (left) and Dan (right) working on Pans.  Picture by Jane (2006

Quiet success over the years

For years, Taitan Cookware grew slowly and quietly. The brothers never chased trends or scale. Their pans were used by chefs and home cooks who valued reliability over novelty, often recommending the cookware to others after years of use.

Customers frequently kept the same pans for long periods without needing replacements. “These are the pans you stop thinking about,” one longtime customer said. “They just work, year after year.”The success was never flashy, but it was steady.

Without advertising campaigns or large retail partnerships, the workshop remained busy enough to sustain itself for decades.

Why are they closing now?

Three weeks ago, Dan and Eric made the decision to retire. The choice was not driven by declining demand. Interest in their cookware remains strong. But the brothers say age played a decisive role. The work is physical, detailed, and demanding, and after decades of enjoying the craft, they felt the time had come to stop.

“We have always loved doing this,” Eric said. “But you reach a point where you know it is time to slow down.”

Rather than outsource production or change the way their cookware was made, they chose to end the workshop on their own terms.

Dan (left) and Eric (right) in their workshop. Picture by Jim Goldberg for New York News 

This is the right moment

Stories like this are becoming rare. In an industry driven by speed, coatings, and disposability, Dan and Eric chose a different path and stayed on it for decades.

They are not asking anyone to save their business. That decision has already been made. The workshop will close for good. What they are offering is the chance to own a piece of cookware made the old way, by two craftsmen who cared deeply about what they built.

The final Taitan Cookware collection will remain available only until the remaining inventory is sold. After that, the workshop doors will close permanently.