The pasta from hell.
The pasta from hell.

I actually tried straining boiling pasta by putting my hand on the edge of the pot and dumping the pasta against my hand. Source

Do not add rice. I repeat, do not add rice.
Do not add rice. I repeat, do not add rice.

Late at night, after a very, very long couple of days, I tried to follow a crockpot recipe for gumbo. After dumping everything in, I read the last instruction "add rice and enjoy!", so, I added rice.

Woke up the next morning to overflowing gelatinous goop.

Did not enjoy. Source

There is such a thing as too much coffee.
There is such a thing as too much coffee.

I was making a coffee flavored cheesecake. The recipe called for seven tablespoons of coffee. I added seven tablespoons of (instant) coffee grounds. The caffeine was strong with this one. Source

That was definitely not pepper.
That was definitely not pepper.

I used what I thought was pepper when making a soup at my parents house. Turned out it was sand my mom had brought back from the Oregon Coast the week before. Source

Nope. Nope. Nope.
Nope. Nope. Nope.

I thought the juice that came in a bottle of olives was the same thing as olive oil. I learned that it cannot be used to lubricate a frying pan for cooking a quesadilla. Source

"DON'T!"

My girlfriend and I had cooked salmon in a glass dish in the oven. After taking the cooked salmon to a serving plate I put the glass dish in the sink. She shouted "Don't!" the same time I turned on cold water on the glass to cool it down and it exploded.Source

It's not my fault mom.
It's not my fault mom.

I was 12. My mom was a great cook, but refused to ever do it unless she was hungry, so I learned to cook at a young age. On this particular day I was making French fries. Cut up the potatoes, put the oil on the stove got a phone call. Forgot about it. Next thing I know, I see bright yellow gleaming from the kitchen. I frantically search for baking soda or a fire extinguisher to no avail. Mom is screaming. As I'm looking for a lid to put on it, she wets a towel and throws it on top of it, sending oil all over the place, basically setting the kitchen on fire. I grab the pan and throw it out the back door catching the yard on fire. Proceed to beat out the remaining flames around the kitchen. A shouting match ensues, and the end result is I'm not allowed to cook anymore. Nothing changes though, and I go back to cooking. Kitchen cabinets still have burn marks to this day.

Tldr: cook for your children or they'll burn down your house. Source

That is definitely not what it means.
That is definitely not what it means.

My aunt asks my cousin to make muffins. Later she walks into the kitchen to find my cousin swirling her fingers in the batter. Apparently my cousin was confused by the instruction to "mix by hand." Source

And the award for best boyfriend goes to...
And the award for best boyfriend goes to...

Thought the lasagna noodles I used were "oven-ready."

They were not. I was hormonal, so I cried, and my wonderful boyfriend bought me McDonald's and cleaned up my mistake. Source

That one hurt the heart.
That one hurt the heart.

I had a massive slab of pork belly, was planning on snacking on it for weeks. Scored it, poured boiling water (makes it curl), rubbed salt and oil it. Slowly slowly cooked it, then super hot at the end. The popping was like a symphony.

It was perfect. Cutting it up it was still moist but practically exploded it was so wonderfully crunchy.

But it turns out that salt and citric acid are extremely easily confused, especially when you keep them in unmarked glass jars.

Throwing that crackling out was one of the most heartbreaking moments. It looked so damn perfect but was so fucking sour. I cried. Source

No 'mo churro.
No 'mo churro.

Was making churros.

Got help from mom.

Didn't have a pastry bag to form the churros.

Make pastry bag out of sandwich bag.

Bag rips.

Sister who should have been an engineer joins in. Makes pastry bag out of a "reinforced" plastic bag because dough was too thick.

Sister squeezes out churro.

First one goes well.

Sister squeezes out next churro.

There is now churro on ceiling.

Churro had exploded on contact with oil.

Mom drives sister to hospital.

Sister is okay.

I am not allowed to make jokes about churro on ceiling.

Eighth grade spanish class food day does not have churros. Source

What is life?!
What is life?!

The first time I cooked for my now wife, we legitimately had to call poison control. Her sister had bleached her hair that day, part of that process used a basting brush; her sister set that brush in the kitchen sink.

I, cooking up some salmon, decided that was the perfect brush for spreading whatever herb/butter situation I whipped up. It wasn't until after dinner that she discovered 'my' blunder, and she ended up actually getting sick, though it could have been an unrelated illness.

I'd like to point out- who the frick puts chemical brushes in a kitchen sink? Shouldn't that be a bathroom job or something? I'll just put this toilet bowl brush next to the kitchen sink too, we can use it for cleaning out the baby bottles- perfect!

Edit- I guess one important detail is that it was in a dish drying rack. So I assumed it was clean. It was late and I thought my story was getting long, I just went with it. Source

No bread ever again.
No bread ever again.

One day I decided to bake bread... no real reason to it. Just because.

To my surprise, when I threw the bread in the oven, it started rising almost immediately. This is when I started having doubts about my measuring of ingredients.

I went to check again how much I was supposed to put in, and found I had put in 10X the baking powder what the recipe said.

Glancing back, I could see the bread still visibly rising straight up like a gigantic mushroom almost touching the grill above it. At this point i was getting pretty worried and decided to pull the bread out. BUT I COULDN'T FIND THE DAMN MITTS!

Now I am panicking. The bread and grill above it had become one at this point, BUT IT WAS STILL RISING. I turned off the stove and hoped to god that this thing would slow its ascent soon.

Unfortunately for me, instead of turning off the stove like i had intended, in my panic I turned it on to broil! All I could see inside was that the bread had begun to slowly descend from the top finally and was feeling more secure about the situation.

Just as I am thinking things are looking alright, I noticed that BROIL WAS STILL ON. An instant later the bread took on the form of a burning marshmallow on steroids.

I somehow managed to think to turn off the broiler and grab a salad bowl in a pretty calm fashion considering how mangled my nerves were at this point.

I went to the sink to fill the bowl with water to throw on the inferno that was now my stove to find that water out of the sink is EXCRUCIATINGLY slow to fill things.

A good 30 seconds later I had just barely enough water to do the deed so I opened the stove to throw the water in to find it had already burned itself out...

TLDR: Bread is now only acquired at the bakery in my household. Source

What the actual...
What the actual...

I tried cooking minced beef with my hair straightener. I used it because my hot plate wasn't working and I wanted minced beef. Source

You should know better!
You should know better!

Had a metal roaster pan for the oven for years. In the rare cases when I forgot the pork roast and it got too dry/burnt, I would pour a glass of cold water on it.

Got a pyrex glass one. First, I melted its silicone lid off by leaving it on top of the oven while I was cooking something. The hot air escaping through the holes in the stoves melted it really well. I was kicking myself for a week.

A week after the lid accident, I forgot a roast and it got a bit burnt. I quickly threw a glass of cold water on it and as expected, the pyrex shattered into a million pieces, no larger than a pinky nail.

The worst part is that I'm a chemist and I should know never to subject pyrex to sudden heat change. This was years ago though so let's hope I've become wiser. Source

The worst grilled cheese ever.
The worst grilled cheese ever.

Made grilled cheese sandwiches while chatting with someone. Life is good. Sit down to eat, bite into sandwich, enjoy plastic nastiness instead of cheesy goodness. Forgot to unwrap cheese. Dammit. Moral of the story: Don't cook while distracted. Source

They are NOT the same!
They are NOT the same!

In home economics class in 7th grade we had to make banana bread in small groups. Well you know how paper handouts in school would be photocopies of photocopies of photocopies and were barely coherent or intelligible? Our group thought the recipe called for 1 CUP of salt rather than the tablespoon or whatever it was supposed to be. The bread didn't rise at all and was a salty ugly brick. So naturally, one of the more oblivious kids in my group took it with him and offered it to the mean vice principal... Needless to say she hated it, but she thought we were trying to poison her. So we got pulled out of our next classes to be yelled at... Haha weird experience. Source

INSTANT. REGRET.
INSTANT. REGRET.

My roommate and I had both just moved into our new place, and were going to celebrate with a really kickass chicken and pasta dinner. We decided to start up the chicken while we were having a conversation in the kitchen. Start off by melting butter in a saucepan, but it starts to burn while we were busy talking. We realized it was starting to get burnt, so we both start flailing to grab the chicken, and discover it's still in the freezer. I hastily grab a piece of chicken and fling it onto the sizzling saucepan. INSTANT. REGRET.

Sizzling liquid-butter sprays all over the kitchen. My roommate and I were both right next to the saucepan, so we both get sprayed by tons of the burning liquid-butter. I immediately dive to the ground and roll behind the counter to shield myself, but my roommate had nowhere to go, and just stood there and took the full force of it. A mix of yelps and laughter emit from the both of us as we try to comprehend what just happened. We made the realization that we were supposed to thaw the chicken, then cook it, not try to cook a frozen chicken.

Although we had tons of minor burns all over our forearms and face, we were mostly unscathed from the wrath of the chicken. We made a pact not to cook anything serious for a couple weeks since we're clearly incapable of being adults. It's been about two weeks since that happened, I think we'll be due for round two pretty soon here.

TLDR: Thaw your chicken, kids. Source

That's enough cooking for a lifetime.
That's enough cooking for a lifetime.

I've made a few mistakes

One time I was melting some sugar for a dessert I was making. The smell enticed me to taste it, so I poured a bit of the sugar on to my finger. Needless to say, I ended up with a really nasty blister.

Another time, I tried to make hot chocolate but ended up burning it. I suspect I didn't stir the powder enough, but I'm not too sure.

I also burnt my fingers while making ramen. I'd finished making the noodles and just needed to pour in the powder, but some powder didn't fall out so I decided to pour in a little bit of the noodle water into the bag. Yes, the boiling hot water.

I don't cook that much anymore. Source

Ew, gross.
Ew, gross.

TL;DR at bottom.

One Friday morning, I was relaxedly frying eggs when I decided to add some orange essence. Orange essence. To fried eggs. What the fuck, younger me.

I pour some into the cap of the bottle and pour that into the pan. The liquid proceeds to ignite midair, climbing into the lid and jumping into the bottle. At the same time the pan catches fire. I put the bottle and lid down and put the pan fire out.

Then I realise that my hand is on fire. My whole hand. And my shirt. I hit my shirt and brush the fire off my hand, unbeknownst to me that I'm ripping off about three layers of skin while I do this.

Then I realise the food essence bottle is still on fire. I blow that out, get some I've for the burn and eat some charred, orangey eggs.

Being a teenager, I decide to go out with friends and just walk around with an ice pack on my hand. Only that night, on the Sabbath (when I can't use electricity or drive, being Jewish,) do I decide to go into ER. I walk there with my mum, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt while walking past all the Synagogue goers I know, who are dressed in suits.

By this time, the middle and first fingers on my right hand are pretty much one big green blister. We get there and they question me about five times about how it happened, without my mum in the room (assumedly checking for child abuse, of which there was none,) before they actually treat me.

It hurt like a bitch but it was definitely an interesting experience and now, a few years later, I can't even tell that it happened, and I have a decent story for this subreddit! Hope it wasn't too long!

TL;DR Shit got lit, had a hot situation on my hands. Source

Too, too much caffeine.
Too, too much caffeine.

We make cold brew for the roaster next door. So he roasts the beans, we (brewery) process it and keg it for him to serve in his shop. Great relationship right cause we get free coffee, and its really not much labour.

The first time we did it, he forgot to mention that he dilutes it 50% with water. So we were all drinking some. Our retail managers hand were shaking so bad he couldn't cut a tomato. Source

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