There are few kitchen appliances as ubiquitous as the microwave. From college dorm rooms to multimillion dollar mansions, microwaves are a must have for any kitchen setup. Whether you're reheating a plate of nachos or cooking up some pizza rolls at 3 a.m., you no doubt understand the magic that is the microwave oven. But despite it being pretty much the first kitchen appliance we all learned how to use, you and I and everyone has been using these things wrong for decades. Hello, Internet! Welcome to Food Theory, the show that is blazing hot on the outside and cool on the inside. Ever since humanity first started to walk upon the earth, our collective brain powers have been dedicated to one singular purpose, cooking tasty food as quickly as possible. At least, that's what my brain is definitely used for. From the discovery of fire to the creation of the nonstick pan, humans have been crafting newer and better ways to get food into our bellies lickety split. But I argue that no invention in the history of cooking has saved our species more time and energy than the wondrous microwave oven. It's the best thing since sliced bread. Poor sliced bread, only got 20 years on top of its throne. I mean, how can you compete with unwrapping a scrumptious Hot Pocket, placing it in its teeny tiny little cardboard onesie, and two minutes later biting into its cheesy goodness and straight into molten lava? Sure, you put the roof of your mouth in danger, but compare that to a Hot Pocket cooked in a conventional oven. 30 minutes? Ain't nobody got time for that. Does it taste better in a regular oven? Yeah, kinda. But do you think I'm eating a Hot Pocket because I want a gourmet food experience? Absolutely not. But, despite how revolutionary microwaves have been for mankind, it feels like people have really been dogging on old reliable lately. It's not just frozen meals that stay frozen in the middle either. How many times have you used the popcorn button, expecting to open a bag full of perfectly popped movie theater butter, only to smell smoke long before the time reaches zero? And what if I told you that it wasn't the microwave that was letting us down, but we who were letting down the microwave? Let's be real, how many of the buttons on your microwave do you actually ever use? If you're like me, you probably just hit the 2-Minute Express button and call it a day. And if that is you, definitely let me know in the comments below that I'm not alone. But I'm gonna be changing all of that with a series of experiments that'll make sure all your Hot Pockets come out perfect and your popcorn unburnt. Much like many of history's greatest discoveries, like the Post-it Note, Penicillin, and even Play-Doh, the microwave was invented entirely by accident. Back during World War II, British physicists invented something called the Magnetron, cousin to the leader of the Decepticons. A Magnetron is basically a device that emits microwaves, a type of light that is part of the electromagnetic spectrum. The Allies realized that these microwaves could be used as an early form of radar, and companies obviously started mass-producing them for radar equipment. In 1945, American self-taught engineer Percy Spencer was working on creating one of those radar systems for the company Raytheon, when he noticed a strange, warm sensation in his pants. Pfft. Get your mind out of the gutter. As it turned out, the Mr. Good bar he had left in his pocket to snack on later had melted. The culprit? The microwaves produced by the Magnetron. Spencer then tested his discovery on some popcorn by placing unpopped kernels next to the Magnetron. Lo and behold, they popped. So there's a little bit of bar trivia for you. The first item ever cooked by a microwave? A chocolate bar. The first item intentionally cooked by a microwave? Popcorn. Spencer eventually devised a way to keep those microwaves trapped inside of a metal box, and thus, the microwave was born. Now, in order to use something to its full potential, you gotta know how it actually works. Much like Spencer's microwave, the main cooking element inside of your microwave oven is still the Magnetron. For physics reasons that are... ehh... complicated, the Magnetron creates microwaves, which are then released into the main part of the oven. To put it simply, the Magnetron heats up and shoots out tiny particles called electrons, which are then spun in circles by a magnet. The electrons start bouncing off special walls in the Magnetron that create an electric field and make the electrons go crazy, releasing microwaves. Those go into your oven, heat up your food, and voila. But the heating process is a little bit more nuanced. See, microwaves are just like any other kind of light, be it visible light, x-rays, or UV. And much like all light does, microwaves move like, well, waves, oscillating up and down at a high rate of speed. Inside of your food, the rapid oscillation of these waves causes the water molecules in the food to start to flip, rotate, and bump into each other, like the world's tiniest mosh pit. This leads to the water molecules heating up and thus cooking your food, a process known as dielectric heating. By the way, that rapid oscillation of the waves in your microwave happens two and a half billion times per second. No wonder that microwave can heat up my breakfast burrito so fast. The genius design of the microwave oven does come with one major drawback, though. You may have noticed when you cook something in the microwave, the food spins around. But why the need for this plate pirouette? It all comes down to those oscillating microwaves. The high and the low points of each individual wave, called the antinodes, are where the energy is the strongest and thus where most of the heating is done. On the flip side, the middle parts of each wave, called the nodes, are where the wave is the weakest, and they don't really heat up your food all that much. The distribution of nodes and antinodes lead to there being a bunch of hot and cold spots in your microwave. Without the spinning of the tray, the heat isn't well distributed, and you get the frozen spots next to the boiling ones. You can actually see these hot and cold spots for yourself. If you lay a layer of cheese in the microwave and cook it without allowing the tray to spin, the parts of the cheese that don't melt are where the low energy nodes are, and the melted bits are where the high energy antinodes are. But if you ever find yourself in a situation where your microwave center tray no longer spins, it's time for a new one. Otherwise, you're going to have those gross cold spots in your reheated meals forever. Now that we got the basics of microwaveology under our belts, it's time to really crank up the heat and learn how to master your specific microwave. While all the microwave ovens operate on the same general principle, they do differ in one aspect, their power level. You see, power, measured in watts, tells you how much energy your microwave delivers to your food per unit of time. The higher the wattage, the more energy your microwave outputs per second and the faster it cooks your food. So knowing what the wattage is on your microwave is critical for being able to cook properly. Thankfully, figuring out your microwave's wattage is pretty simple. Most microwaves list their wattage somewhere easy to find, like on the front or an inside label. For example, my microwave is 700 watts, which I found in big block letters as soon as I opened the door. Meanwhile, one of our writers, Mike, has a microwave that's 1250 watts. But if mine is 700 and Mike's is 1250, then how can Totino's give us both accurate cooking times for our pizza rolls when we know our two microwaves cook at different rates? Whenever you've cooked a frozen treat in the microwave, I'm sure you've taken a gander at the cooking instructions listed at the back of the packaging. And if you're like me, then you proceeded to throw out the box, only to have to go digging through the trash five seconds later when you've forgotten the cooking time. If that's you, dear theorist, just know you're seen. But next to the microwave time, you'll find some small print that tells you that the time corresponds to a specific microwave wattage. It'll say something like instructions for a 1000 watt microwave, or they may even list the cooking times for several different wattages. And if you find yours there, you're in luck. But if your microwave is slightly stronger or weaker than the instructions were made for, then you risk under or over cooking your late night snack. How do you adjust the cooking times to fit your particular microwave? Well, thank goodness for the 21st century, because there's an app for that. We found one called Watts Up, the punny title of which physically hurts me. And they're not a sponsor, by the way. It's free on both iOS and Android. And all you need to do is put in your microwave's wattage, the recommended cooking time from the packaging wattage it was made for. And it'll tell you precisely how long to cook your food in your microwave to get it perfectly piping hot every time. I decided to try this out and see for myself whether adjusting for wattage makes a difference. But in order to do that, I went out and bought a brand new microwave with a slew of sensors and comes in at a whopping 1100 watts. In both, I chucked a frozen lasagna, but adjusted the cooking times based on their power. Luckily, the package instructions were made for an 1100 watt microwave, so nothing to do there. But on my smaller one, the cook time shot up from seven minutes to 11. Not only that, it didn't even cook it fully. By the end of the time, the pasta was still hard at the bottom, not fully cooked. And there were still some pieces of cheese that hadn't fully incorporated. Don't think that the more powerful microwave was that much better, though. When I took it out halfway through to vent it like the instructions say to do, it was already on its way to being better cooked than the previous one. The lasagna noodle was nice and soft. No uncooked spots at all. But after the remainder of the time, the edges of the lasagna started to burn, even after lowering the power to half. It wasn't a large amount, but more than it should have been. That said, by and large, everything was cooked more evenly, meaning that though you can adjust for your microwave's lower wattage, it won't give you the same results as one that is just more powerful. While we're on the subject of power, does changing power settings on your microwave actually do anything? The answer is kind of. When your microwave is on the highest power setting, it's cooking your food at its maximum potential. And while using a microwave at a lower setting may be slower, there are some niche scenarios where using a lower power for a longer period of time is better. For example, if you're simmering a delicate sauce, then using a medium power might prevent messes. Also, while heating bread or melting butter or cheese, it's recommended that you use the lowest power so that it warms the food instead of cooking it. Either way, considering most frozen foods only show cooking instructions on high and since using the other settings isn't super common, unless your recipe specifically asks for a different power level, just stick to nuking it on high. So we've settled the power debate. Unfortunately, even with an app to help us figure out the correct times for a weaker microwave, the food still didn't cook all the way through. But how much of a factor is how you're inputting the cooking time? I know I'm guilty of smashing the 30 second button like I'm playing Street Fighter to get the cooking time I want. And in researching for this episode, I found out I'm not the only one. Is there a difference between pressing it 10 times as opposed to just hitting five minutes on the microwave? Well, therein lies our second test. Not only did we want to see the difference for each microwave, but how those differences compared across the two. So we heated up some hot pockets using the different inputs. On the smaller microwave, this meant pressing three minutes or the 30 second button six times. For the more powerful microwave, the cook time decreased. So we press two minutes or 30 seconds four times. I got to tell you, I didn't expect anything to change here. But actually, in the smaller microwave, using the 30 second button led to a more firm hot pocket and not in a good way. The dough felt less cooked and the cheese inside wasn't fully melted. Using the express cook option led to a softer, albeit a little more on the soggy side, hot pocket. But the cheese was way more melted. It was still in small chunks and not evenly distributed, but it made for an overall more satisfying bite. Even the more powerful microwave saw a difference. The hot pocket cooked with the 30 second button was way more melted inside. But the dough got much softer than the previous two. This time around, it wasn't soggy, but it did start to fall apart on me. Not ideal for eating. The other method made the dough more flaky, but kept its firmness and structural integrity. It melted just as well, but actually stayed together better, too. All in all, steer clear of the 30 second button, except for its intended function of adding just that extra bit of time you might need. While the preset power level for the button is the same as if you just manually input your time, the microwave has less of a ramp up in heat, giving your food less time to fully cook and instead just steam up from the inside. And this is bad news for you, friends, because without structural integrity, as soon as you bite into that pocket, it'll ooze hot magma right onto your hands and lap. But now we're coming to our final and I would argue most important round. The other buttons. Unfortunately, every model of microwave comes with their own set of extra buttons, many of which are unhelpfully called different things. But let's start with the button that I've been alluding to all video. The popcorn button. The popcorn button does exactly what it says. It's meant to be a simple way of making sure your popcorn is perfectly cooked, minimizing unpopped and blackened kernels. You just throw in your bag of poppin' corn, hit the button and let it ride. But how can a microwave know when your popcorn is done? Steam. When you cook microwave popcorn, not only is that bag slowly filling up with popped kernels, but it's also filling up with steam. Once your popcorn bag is full enough, the hole that you'll ultimately use to open your popcorn will release a huge puff of steam all at once. That puff then sets off a special moisture sensor in your microwave, letting it know that it's almost done cooking. Your microwave is then pre-programmed to go, I just detected steam. That means the popcorn will be done in about 23 seconds. Let me set a timer. Meet more... That is how my microwave talks. Yes. How long the gap is between the sensor triggering and the microwave stopping varies from one model to the next. But not all microwaves are created equal. Some of you may have one that's like mine, which prompts you to put in how much your popcorn bag weighs. Unfortunately, this means that your popcorn button and in fact, your entire microwave kind of sucks. Your particular microwave doesn't actually have the steam detecting sensor, and therefore that popcorn button is just a glorified preset timer. In fact, this problem of some popcorn buttons being bad is so prevalent that if you pay careful attention to the instructions of your microwave popcorn, you'll notice that most of the major brands actually advise against using said button. Since they can't guarantee that your microwave will have the cool sensor based technology, they're better off just telling you how long to cook their particular brand, which prevents Orville Redenbacher's customer service lines from being flooded with angry complaints. I should also mention that while the fancy microwave we got for this episode did ask for the bag weight, it also has a steam sensor that detects the puff of steam so that it can adjust power accordingly. But whether you have a fancy schmancy microwave or the cheapest one you can find at Bed Bath & Beyond, the best way to cook popcorn is by listening. And I only now realize that Bed Bath & Beyond going bankrupt means that some of you won't know the feeling of stepping to that store. Man, as a kid, I would roam those aisles for so long while my parents shopped for linens or whatever. It was such a trip because you could touch all the towels in one aisle, take a nap on some lawn chairs in another, and find a mini pinball machine in the next. It was like Disneyland. Wow, that sentence was a lot sadder than it sounded in my head. So for this final experiment, each microwave cooked two bags of popcorn, one using the infamous popcorn button and the other using the method most popcorn brands recommend, listening to the pop. It seems a little archaic and imperfect as a method, considering you might think that the popping is slowed down so you stop the microwave only to have half of your bag unpopped. Once we took the bags out, we painstakingly sorted through, and definitely ate, the popped kernels and removed any unpopped ones. We measured the weight of them to figure out the percentage of the bag left unpopped in order to test effectiveness. So pop yourself some popcorn and pull up a seat because this is where it gets interesting. Overall, the popcorn button was way worse than the listening method. And I mean, way worse. But surprisingly, consistently so across the two microwaves. What do I mean? Well, in the smaller microwave, the popcorn button left an insane 39 grams of kernels unpopped, which translates to about 43% of the overall bag. Listening for the pop left us with only 24% of the bag unpopped. That's a difference of 19%, almost a fifth of a bag. The microwave with a steam sensor performed better. The popcorn button only left 20 grams unpopped or 21% of the overall weight. But when we listen to the pop on this one, we only left 3% of the bag unpopped, a measly four grams. Sure, both numbers are lower here than the other microwave. But the difference between the two methods is almost exactly the same, 18%. It's also worth mentioning that the larger microwave actually allowed the bag to fully rotate, which can impact heat distribution and overall popping. But that aside, it's clear that the popcorn button has nothing on good old fashion ears. The key to the perfect bag of popcorn every time honestly comes down to you, theorists. Your best bet is to set your microwave on the highest power setting for roughly three minutes and listening to the popping sounds. Once you can count two seconds between pops, stop your microwave, no matter how much time you have left. And that should leave you with the best result you can have. It's no wonder Orville Redenbacher's official instructions tell you to listen to the pop. Outside of the popcorn button, your microwave may also have buttons for other kinds of food and beverages. For example, the stronger microwave has one for pizza, potatoes, and a bunch of other things. These buttons work the exact same way as the popcorn button, with the only difference being how much time the microwave stays on after detecting the steam. In fact, if your microwave has a sensor reheat or defrost button, you can use that to reheat just about any leftovers you have. Want to reheat last night's pizza? Plop it in the microwave, hit the magical reheat button, and watch as your food comes out nice and hot. But remember, if your microwave doesn't have that sensor, these buttons are just glorified preset timers and don't really do anything different than if you just input a time yourself. And with that, we've reached the end of our experiments, and whoo boy, did we cover a lot of ground today. Time felt like it just flew by. We learned how one man's melted candy led to one of humanity's greatest culinary accomplishments. But most importantly, we learned about how to take charge of our microwaves. If yours doesn't have a sensor, forget all those preset timers and stick to just putting in the time yourself. As long as you make sure to adjust for the wattage of your microwave. Oh, and the popcorn button? Never again. You're just cheating yourself out of a fifth of the bag you paid for. But hey, that's just a theory, a food theory. Bon appetit. And if you want to learn more about how to maximize your cooking appliances, click the video on the left to watch Matt cook steak in a dryer. Yeah, you heard that right. We use the clothes dryer as a cooking appliance. Or if you want to see more of me, click the card on the right to watch it get even hotter as I try and determine what makes the ultimate spicy chicken sandwich. And as always, I'll see you next week.
