Baking Edgy Brownies I've been fascinated with the Edge Brownie Pan for months. I can't remember where I first saw it - doubtless it was online somewhere - but I was downright entranced. It's a simple yet brilliant idea: a baking pan shaped somewhat like a little maze that gives each piece of a baked dish at least two edges. Chewy bits! Nothing but chewy bits! What more could you want? It didn't occur to me until recently, though, that I ought to a) try the damn thing and then b) spread the word so that other chewy-bits lovers might learn of this magical invention and get their own. So I procured a pan, and I set to cooking. I'd like to be cooking still, but a deadline looms. The pan itself is heavy, solid, and blessed with a pair of easy-to-grip handles; there's no accidentally dipping your oven mitt in the batter here. My first experiment, I admit, didn't go so well, but it was no fault of the pan's. I baked a spinach-tomato-sausage pasta that, while absolutely scrumptious, was too moist a dish to make proper use of the Edge pan's many, many sides. What crisped up did a right fine job of crisping up, but it was a bit of a lesson: Filling the pan's narrow spaces isn't as easy as dumping your pile of pasta into a 9" x 13" rectangle, so if you're not going to get crispy bits from a particular recipe (such as one with fresh spinach), you might as well pass. But then I made brownies. I used the recipe that comes with the pan (a tiny spatula, just the right size for the pan's rows, comes with it as well), which turned out to be wonderful: rich, moist in the middle, thick with chocolate chips. The deliciousness of your brownies will, of course, be in direct proportion to the quality of your ingredients, but regardless of whether you use Baker's chocolate or some fancier kind, you'll get the edges you're after. Sliced into 2" pieces (the pan's shape also makes cutting pieces an, um, piece of cake), my brownies were decadent, perfectly chewy on their numerous edges and perfectly soft in the middle. Even cold from the refrigerator, they're little slices of chocolate utopia. What of pasta, though? I made up for the early misstep with a slightly ridiculous homemade macaroni and cheese the next night (sustenance for the last 200 pages of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows). Three kinds of cheese, two stirred into a roughly-estimated béchamel, went into the thing along with a pound of macaroni (I forgot the sliced olives, but I highly recommend them). We baked the dish until it bubbled noisily, then ran it under the broiler for a few minutes to get the top nice and brown. I burned my tongue on the liquid cheese, I was so impatient to eat it. The Edge pan is almost unbelievably nonstick, which is to say nothing sticks to it. Nothing. But the cheese sauce along the bottom and sides of the pasta formed a crust almost, though not quite, as chewy as that on the top. The ratio of stuck-together, chewy outside bits to soft inside bits was something out of a dream. It's a winner. The only drawbacks are tiny: One, it's kind of a pain to wash this pan, especially if you have a small sink; you may find water splashing everywhere. Two: You may also find yourself unable to resist seconds. And possibly thirds. For more about the Edge Brownie Pan (there'll be a lasagna-sized pan soon!), go to www.bakersedge.com — Molly Templeton   New Specialty Store | Oregon Cheese | Home Style, Delivered | Café Cruisin' | Food Visionaries | Burrito Brilliance | Edgy Brownies |