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Cooking Abomination!! XD

I've made some great spicy dipping sauce by mixing tabasco, ranch, barbecue and some extra red pepper flake and the 'italian' seasoning herb mix :techman:
 
I thought of something. My little sister used to make Lazy Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. She'd toast bread in the toaster, and then throw a slice of cheese in the middle and microwave it.
 
My sister-in-law once roasted a Thanksgiving turkey with the neck and giblets package still inside.

Made for an ... interesting aroma and presentation.

I thought of something. My little sister used to make Lazy Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. She'd toast bread in the toaster, and then throw a slice of cheese in the middle and microwave it.

Young lady, in this house we will have croque-monsieur and we will use fucking gruyere, damn it!
 
I thought of something. My little sister used to make Lazy Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. She'd toast bread in the toaster, and then throw a slice of cheese in the middle and microwave it.

My parents used to do that. I would fight with them.
 
I used to microwave pizzas, and ... well, anything instead of having to cook it. I would get graham crackers, put peanut butter on then, put a marshmallow (sticking to hte cracker with peanut butter, spread some peanut butter evenly on the top of the cracker and microwave until the marshmallow is getting bigger in width than hte cracker.
 
I thought of something. My little sister used to make Lazy Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. She'd toast bread in the toaster, and then throw a slice of cheese in the middle and microwave it.
I've been known to do that, but call it a fake grill cheese sandwich. A little margarine/spread helps the flavor, substituting for similar ingredients used in the pan to keep a real grilled cheese sandwich from sticking.
 
I started being a bad cook at an early age. I remember making cookies in the Easy-Bake Oven with my sister, and my only job was to set the timer. Guess who forgot to set the timer? There have been numerous incidents since then, involving anything from a tin of flour in a sink full of water, things that spark in the microwave, and an oven mitt that was set on fire on the stove.

I was disastrous in many ways until my freshman year of college. I took a semester off for medical reasons and found myself with some extra time on my hands. I decided to learn how to cook and bake and I've been decent since then. However upon getting married I tried to learn how to iron and we ended up with a triangle-shaped hole in the window blinds.

I'm not very domestic.
 
Back when I was living in my first apartment, senior year of college, I was still what most would refer to as a functional retard in a kitchen, though I was quickly learning under the apprenticeship of a local chef at the time.

Chef Jim had, many months prior, introduced me to the idea of preserving fruit. Thinking this a brilliant concept, I put together a massive preserving jar of lemons, and put on top of my fridge to do its thing. (You can probably guess where this is going.)

One day, six months later, I went to get a drink from the fridge. Evidently, the jar full of lemons had migrated, that bastard jar, to the front-top of the refrigerator and was half-balancing, precariously, on the closed door.

I opened the door, and the jar of lemons falls on my fucking head, and then proceeded to tear a path of wanton destruction down the refrigerator door, ripping out two shelves full of condiments (and by condiments, we're talking fish sauce, chili sauce, mayonnaise, mustard, I seem to recall some sweet pickle relish and giardiniera as well), and they all smashed together on the bottom of the fridge and my tile kitchen floor.

The resulting smell in my kitchen was utterly unholy, so vile that it could raise Lenin and Stalin from the dead only to kill them all over again. The smell of fish sauce, chili sauce, mayonnaise, mustard and giardiniera all being collectively trumped by roughly one ton of candied lemon is something that I never, ever want to experience again for the rest of my days on Earth. And it lingered. Oh, did it linger. For about a month after that, I declined to host any female guests at my place, coming up with all manner of excuses.

Between that stench and the massive headache I got from that jar colliding with my head, I learned my lesson: Preserved lemon can go get fucked right now.
 
I've been banned from making pancakes.

I've banned my wife from making pancakes.

But, as I've shown many times in this thread, I'm far from a kitchen savant. Just recently, I made a huge batch of tzatziki to accompany falafel. Two cucumbers, two lemons, a bunch of garlic and fresh dill, and a quart of yogurt.

Vanilla yogurt.

In my defense, the containers look the same. :(
 
I've had the curdled eggs pudding mishaps before. Always strained the puddings a bit and they tasted fine.

I made my famous (in my family, at least) caramel pecan pie one year...and I forgot the eggs. What resulted was a sticky glop stuck to a pie crust. Funny thing was, it was delicious. We called it "pie candy". I had time to make another pie anyway...

The worst cooking disaster ever for my family I wasn't present for (I was in NY for a choir tour). My mom decided to make a new stuffing for Thanksgiving. We had an exchange student from France living with us at the time, and Mom loved giving her American (especially Southwest) foods. Other guests were invited. Mom thought it would be swell to add jalapeno peppers to the stuffing. The result was inedible. My mom was in tears...partly from the heat of the peppers, partly from being embarassed in front of her guests, partly from being upset at ruining the best part of Thanksgiving dinner next to the turkey! It's a running joke now while we cook together- I'll hold up some dried chilis and she'll just laugh. :lol:

ETA- LMAO at Timby's lemon story. I have a similar tale, but I'll save it for later.
 
Another disaster happened when I was about eight. Mom was making a huge batch of gumbo for a church dinner, and she had some live crabs to put in it. As she started to dump the crabs into the boiling water, several escaped! I was terrified. They came after me with their little claws clacking. I stood on a chair crying. It's hilarious to look back on now, but hey, I was eight! :lol:

The crabs did end up meeting their maker, and the gumbo was good.
 
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