Decided to make fried chicken. We rarely ever eat fried foods, and so I don’t have fancy things like deep fryers. What I had was a large cast aluminum pot.

Filled it about half way with oil, made amazing delicious fried chicken.

I also don’t have a stop top. Use a single eye burner. Needed the burner for something else, so sat the pot on the counter next to the sink.

Moved wrong, knocked the pot into the sink. Boiling oil goes down the drain.

Know what’s at the bottom of the drain? A trap full of water.

Water met boiling oil as I matrix dodged our of the way and a geysey worthy of yellow stone came flying out of the sink, both sides, shooting boiling oil and steam everywhere. Covering the ceiling, the walls, the floor. Even the dog got hit (thank God for long, thick fur!). I had splatter burns on my legs, which was the only part of me not under the counter when it landed. It came up with so much force it threw the pot out of the sink.

I went to spend Christmas with my in-laws about ten years ago and ruined their meal.

I’m not a bad cook, I know my way around a kitchen, my mom ran a fast food joint when I was a teen and she taught me how to work my ass off in a kitchen. From that start I’ve developed into a pretty good cook (or so my wife and friends tell me). I’m not the best but I do know how to cook. I know how to make prepare and serve a full Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings and desserts on my own if I had to.

At my in-laws place for Christmas I knew I should help so I just started doing dishes without asking. The place was hectic, the in-laws barely know how to cook and none of them seem to appreciate any spice other than salt or pepper. Everyone was happy I was helping and I kept the kitchen clean as the cooks worked. It was familiar for me and it amazed everyone else.

After a couple of hours of helping I thought I’d do more. They were making gravy and all it was was thin water from the drippings mixed with flour which made a white watery tasteless gravy. I thought I’d amaze them by making a roux with the own drippings, thickening the liquid, browning it to a golden color, adding salt, pepper, spice, a drop of maple syrup, soya sauce and a dash of Worcestershire. I kept tasting it and to me it was delicious. I had practiced for years and I knew how to make it taste good.

The in laws came in and the room went quiet, even the Christmas music stopped … they all looked at me like I murdered the cat and I was cooking it.

They were all upset that I had changed “Ma’s gravy” and turned it into something else. Everyone was either disappointed at best or just sneered at me like I had thrown a brick into the living room window.

I didn’t burn anything, didn’t over salt, didn’t make anyone sick, no fire, no explosions, blood or burns … I had just ruined “Ma’s gravy” of basically water and flour that everyone ate and somehow enjoyed every Christmas.

It was the weirdest TIFU in the kitchen I ever experienced.

Cat food pasta.

I often buy wet cat food, as a treat for my cats. I blend it with some water (they like it this way), freeze it into cubes, and put them in an old ice cream container. Everyday 18:00 I unfreeze two of those cubes for their dinner.

I also buy tomato paste in 1kg cartons, and freeze it into ice cubes. It goes to another ice cream container in the freezer.

Well. At night, distracted, preparing tomato sauce for the pasta. Added actual tomato paste cubes into it, got distracted, tasted it, “meh, still too runny”, went back to the freezer, picked the contained that I thought to be tomato paste, didn’t check the contents, added two more cubes to the sauce. And as it dissolves and bubbles I think “wait a minute this is smelling like cat foo… oh shit”.

It isn’t something harmful or contaminated, so I… ate it? 6/10 it didn’t make me go full “bleeeergh” but not doing this again.

I’m sure everyone’s absent mindedly grabbed the handle of a cast iron pan they’ve just taken out of the oven, and had that quick “Oh no!” thought in the milliseconds before the pain registers.

Was making an alfredo a few weeks ago. Wanted it really cheesy. I’m there with my thing of cream and my shredded parm. Got greedy and added way more parm than I had cream to counteract. When it cooled it was basically rubberized.

For some reason I have a hard time with which knob goes to which burner on a range. Couldn’t tell you why. Got home from a 12 hour shift at work and my wife, who didn’t work that day, told me she expected me to make dinner. I go into the kitchen and it is a much bigger mess then how I left it the night before. So with my last bit of mental capacity I put things away enough so I can cook. But apparently there were some plastic lids under a glass lid on the back of the stove. Started a pot of water and went to the other side of the kitchen to chop some veg. The kitchen started to smell weird, and I’m looking around trying to figure what it is, and figure out I had turned on the wrong burner. Picked up the glass lid and my lungs were assaulted with plastic fumes. I’m coughing and hacking and wheezing and almost passing out on the floor. It was so hard for me to breath I felt like I was dying. This brings my wife in and she steps over my body and finishes making dinner. Serves herself some, and takes it into the bedroom just as I’m barely able to stand again. That’s when I realized, I had fucked up. Shouldn’t have married her. Been divorced 2 years today.

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