By G.C. Stoppel
Eighty years ago this month a new kitchen appliance revolutionized cooking thanks to a young engineer who had worked late into the night on projects for the military.
Percy Spencer had dropped out of school when he was 12 and as a teenager and enlisted in the Navy signal corps during World War I. His assignment was to send and receive messages, and in his spare time he became a self-taught mathematician and electric engineer.
Like most professional and amateur radio operators, he was constant experimenting. After the war, he took a job with Raytheon, the developers of advanced military-grade weapons.
By the time World War II broke out in Europe in 1939, radar was one of several ultra top-secret weapons.
My mother, a professor at Oklahoma City University, was sworn to secrecy and spent the war years teaching advanced math to future pilots, bombardiers, navigators and more service personnel who would continue to work to improve radar.
Because the classes were top secret, her students were not allowed to take home notes nor training materials out of her classroom. An MP made sure of it, going so far as to confiscate her notes and lesson materials at the end of each day.
Part of their classwork involved the theories developed by Spencer, who headed a team of Raytheon working on the Magnetron. It was a huge and complex machine made all the larger and heavier because it emitted often-dangerous microwaves that had to be safely shielded.
One day, while Spencer and his team were working on a new version of the Magnetron, he inadvertently left his Payday candy bar in his shirt pocket. To his horror, the candy bar melted and hot chocolate and caramel burned his skin.
Although it was not part of the work to which he was assigned, Spencer began testing his Magnetron on other foods. Microwaves trained on popcorn would make it pop. Water and other liquids could be heated to a boil, tepid coffee reheated and food cooked through plastic, paper and even glass. His team also quickly learned microwaves and metal do not work well together.
They experimented with endless foods, often with good results but sometimes not. Coffee beans could not be roasted, grapes could not be made into raisins nor plums into prunes.
Worse, a grape or other soft fruit that was cut and unfolded into two attached parts would create a violent plasma blast that destroyed the machine and shorted fuses in the circuits.
The real problems with magnetrons were the cost, size and weight. Even so, after the war the Navy bought them for their new nuclear-powered ships. There was, obviously, a limited market with the military. At over 750 pounds, standing about 6 feet tall and costing about $52,000 in today’s money, homeowners and restaurants found them intriguing but impractical.
The Raytheon-owned small electronics manufacturing company in Iowa, Amana Corp., was well known for its kitchen appliances, so Raytheon turned their huge “radar range” over to that firm’s engineers.
By 1967, Amana engineers had reduced the size of the behemoth down to an appliance fit for a kitchen. The price tag, however, was still high at just under $500.
Amana had to overcome another serious problem. The smaller box allowed microwaves to leak into the room. About the same time, electronic heart pacemakers were developed and the leaking waves sometimes led to fatal problems.
The firm’s scientists went to work and resolved the problem, but bad publicity from the earlier models left people anxious. Sales were slow at first.
In less than 20 years, the more-efficient, safer and less-expensive microwave ovens replaced the stove/oven as the most popular kitchen appliance.
They are simple to operate. Just set the timer and power level, put something in the box and press the start button. At the appropriate time a satisfying tone lets the user know the food is done.
Of course, it helps knowing how long something is supposed to cook, and whether it should be on the low level defrost setting or the higher cook at full power. That was the catchy part, and producers of frozen food had to change the instructions on their packaging so they could be safely “nuked.”
Today microwave ovens are far less expensive, although some owners claim they have such a short life they are practically disposable after a few years.
I learned that the hard way. I didn’t know that warming up paraffin could be explosive but found out the afternoon I wanted to melt a chunk of it to pour over pinecones and make fire starters.
That afternoon there was no well-modulated “ping” but a loud bang when it exploded and took out the door. Fair warning: a block of pure beeswax is just as explosive. No one told me, so I learned that the hard way too.
Before Pat and I married, I did my own cooking, usually a frozen dinner using the microwave. It could be complicated, and a few times I converted what should have been a nice meal into a burnt offering that set off the smoke detectors.
The neighbors called the local fire department. That was kind of them but embarrassing when a crew turned up expecting an inferno and not a ruined meal.
After the second or third time they asked if I would mind calling the firehouse on the non-emergency line to let them know I was about to cook, so they could be on standby.
I went back to the microwave and learned a few things I want to pass on. First, frozen sauerkraut, when cooked on full power and left in the machine for too long might not explode, but it burns with a bright purple flame. It leaves behind a smoky residue that is next to impossible to get off the walls and doesn’t smell very nice.
A frozen loaf of caraway rye bread left too long on high produces an eye-watering smoke that will also set off the smoke detectors. Tourists smelled it from the sidewalk and thought I was burning some sort of illegal substance.
This time they called the police about a possible crime being committed. By the time officers arrived, I had pitched the still-smoldering and no-longer-edible loaf into the garden. They came, saw, smelled and agreed no laws had been broken, but declined my offer to take the loaf as evidence. One of them said I shouldn’t bury it in the garden because it might be an environmental hazard.
When Pat and I married, she took over the cooking and promoted me to cleaning off the table and washing up after the meal. It was safer that way.
Since she passed away, I’ve returned to cooking and so far, so good. I have even become creative. This summer I came up with a new recipe I like, especially when I can open the front and back doors and get a breeze through the house. You might enjoy it too.
Start with a cup or so of frozen spinach heated up for a couple minutes, then add a half tin of spicy chili beans, and a tin of smoked sardines or kippers. On top I put several slices of Limburger cheese.
Heat it for another 30 seconds and you’ve got three basic food groups: dairy, protein and dark leafy vegetables.
It is an acquired taste. Leave the windows or screened doors open for about 20 minutes and the aroma mostly dissipates before it wafts over to the neighbor’s house.
Spencer died at 76, in 1970, all but forgotten as the inventor of the microwave. I still think of him every time I hear a smoke detector.
