Pie-rotechnics

A few days back over at The Poor Man, Andrew Northrup posted a 750-word rant wherein he very forcefully made the case that water boils more quickly if the pot containing said water is covered. And he means it, dammit.

I know most of you think that a pot lid is just a decorative accessory that is included with your pot for some arcane reason known only to pot manufacturers and enthusiasts, but most of you don't have the brains God gave a styrofoam cup. So you can believe my explanation and empirical data or not, but if I ever see you boiling water without using a pot lid, I'm going to beat you to death with it, and no jury in the world would convict me.

It may be time for Andrew to adjust his coffee bean mix to half decaf, but that's not for me to say, nor is it a salient point of this post. I have no dog in the lidded versus lidless fight as it pertains to water preparation (eyes are another matter altogether), but should I ever find myself making instant oatmeal for Mr. Northrup, I'll be sure to cover the pot to most efficiently speed its rise to 212°. Being beaten to death with one's own cookware seems a particularly ignominious way to shuffle off this mortal coil.

What his screed did remind me of, however, was my own scientific/culinary discovery from a couple of years ago. I was dating a woman that was very much a partisan of the Mrs. Smith's Razzleberry Pie - one of those big frozen mothers that takes about an hour in the oven. Until now. I proved beyond a shadow of doubt that it takes only 1/3 of that time if and only if you are in possession of the magic formula.

1. Set the oven temperature to 375° Fahrenheit.
2. Get very distracted - in my experience, Bombay Sapphire London Dry Gin helps significantly with this step - and turn the dial to broil instead of bake.
3. Place the pie on the center rack of the oven and engage in conversation. If you are alone in your house, television may serve the same purpose, but I have not tested the process under those conditions, so your mileage may vary.
4. When you begin to smell smoke (and believe me, you will), carefully remove the pie from the oven with flameproof mitts, run to the back porch, and break off the black, smoldering crust around the edges of what will now be an extremely unfrozen pie.

Vanilla ice cream proved subsequently to be a worthy companion to (a surprisingly edible) charbroiled pie. Remember - I get royalties if you publish this in a cookbook.