I wish I had taken physics, because I might better understand what happened to my dinner. I never got to eat it, or for that matter see it, although it was there.

Carol expected I would be late, as frequently happens when there’s a night meeting.

She prepared a chicken curry which she left to simmer. When the late meeting became later she turned it off, and covered the non-stick frying pan with a lid from a stainless steel pot. Since it wasn’t large enough to fit on the rim of the frying pan, it nestled in the curry. Some time later she heard what she thought was a gun shot from the kitchen.

At first glance nothing appeared out of place. There was no apparent cause for the bang. Then she spotted the frying pan. It was just where she left it on the burner, but to her bewilderment, the rounded cover was pulled down like a squashed ball. When she went to pull the lid off the curry chicken, it was welded tight. It was as if the lid was compressed into the pan.

How had this happened? Had the curry created an air tight seal and the cooling compressed the lid like a lid on a canning jar? Was there enough force to implode a stainless steel lid?

Carol called to let me know what I would find when I got home, since she would be going to bed.

To be safe – who knows if something else might happen – she put the frying pan on the back porch. The pan was cold and the crumpled lid super glued to it. I reasoned if, in fact, the cooling had triggered this phenomena, might heating it reverse the process?

Putting it back on the stove seemed risky. Could the heat blow the lid off along with the curry? A childhood episode flashed to mind when the lid to a pressure cooker that apparently hadn’t been properly seated blew off, spraying the ceiling with French cut string beans. My mother insisted if we were going to have string beans they had to be French cut.

Rather than the stove, I opted to use the sink and hot water. The water was hot. The lid was hot. And my dinner was surely hot. But I wasn’t going to get it.

The lid wouldn’t budge.

I got out a knife and worked it around the lid thinking it would break the seal, but to no avail.

Figuring it was time to find something else for dinner, I put the frying pan back on the porch and cooked up some left over broccoli and rice.

Nothing changed by morning. It looked like the pan with the crumpled lid was destined for the trash.

The same was true the following morning.

Then on the third morning, the pan was clean as was the imploded lid about two feet away. Whatever critter separated the two had left a few kidney beans on the porch. Otherwise everything was clean.

This was not the work of a coyote or fox, which we have seen in our yard before. Perhaps it was a raccoon, or the fat skunk I’ve recently spotted out by the garage.

I examined the pan and the lid. There weren’t any scratches or signs of force.

The lesson: I’d better get home in time for dinner.