Before we dive into that, let's dispense with a technicality: Teflon was DuPont's original brand name for what now goes by various unattractive pseudonyms, such as "non-stick coated aluminum cookware," as well as a poetic variety of brand names. I'll call these slippery coatings "non-sticks."

These textures gave the long, slippery non-stick molecules much more to brace themselves against. And when the non-stick wore off the peaks of the mini-mountains and micro-lumps there was still enough clinging to the slopes and valleys to keep the flapjacks flipping. Sort of.

To move beyond mere mechanics, the frying-pan engineers added a sticky molecule to the non-stick molecule. Non-stick was now applied in coats, with the bottom coat containing the sticky additive that held to both the metal pan and the non-stick molecules. A coat of non-sticky non-stick went over that, non-stick and non-stick clinging together lovingly. A final non-stick layer, spiked with teensy bits of ceramic or other tougheners, protected the softer guts.

This is how lots of non-sticks are made still: Grit-blast the pan; spray on a sticky primer coat, a midcoat, and a tougher top coat; and bake. Oh, yeah: Add colors if you like -- the fluoropolymer is naturally white, but cooks prefer somber saucepans. You may also add a handful of mica, a sparkly rock, to glimmer up the finish.

Which raises the question: Are there health consequences to ingesting all those non-stick molecules? Not to worry, says DuPont's Kris Mohan: We are, after all, talking non-stick. "It's completely inert, and it passes right through the body without interfering with anything."