On Sunday, my pastor, Ric Garland suggested that we should treat our wives like fine china. Nah. Gotta say you’re wrong on that one, Ric, at least for Christy and I. My wife is a casserole dish.
Wait, wait, I mean that as the best kind of compliment because, see, she’s an old Corningware casserole dish.
. . .
Y’all aren’t foodies, huh? Okay, let me explain.
See, Corningware casserole dishes are made of a compound that’s extremely resistant to thermal shock - you can take it right out of the fridge and put it on a hot stove and it’ll stay together just fine. Try that trick with a glass bowl and . . . well, don’t, actually, because if you’re reading my blog, then you’re probably someone I don’t want covered in glass splinters.
So, why an old Corningware casserole? Well, the older ones had a property that the modern ones don’t - they actually got stronger the more you shocked them. That’s right, the more often they were moved from cold to hot and back again, the more resistant they became, to the point that you can take them from the freezer to an open flame and they won’t so much as pucker.
To make this stuff - it’s called “pyroceramic” - you have to heat it a hot fire with just the right mix of chemicals. And, I mean, hot, the kind of temperature that cookware just ordinarily shouldn’t even get near.
And that’s why my wife is an old Corningware casserole dish. She’s been through the fire and come out the other side stronger for it, and every time she’s tested, she gets stronger still. It has been a privilege to spend 20-plus years seeing her forged and forged and re-forged again without becoming brittle or wearing thin.
Perhaps somewhat coincidentally, she also makes a really fine casserole.