apartment therapy changing the world, one room at a time

When I was much younger, I was throwing one of my first parties. It was a smallish affair, but I was sweating every detail. Just as the last guest arrivived, my then 8 month old puppy, keyed up by my tension, I'm sure, barfed right in the middle of the room, in front of everyone. I was mortified. But we all survived!

First every big Christmas day style dinner for 11 (not actually on Christmas day) - half the guests got held up and said they were going to be 3 hours late, so we turned off all the food for a while and started drinking. Needless to say, we burnt all the food.
The best bit? I put on a balldress and was running between kitchen and dining room laying the table. I'd already been so slapdash with the turkey that by this point most surfaces had a liberal dousing of bird fat. As I was hurrying along with a teapot (we were students) full of gravy, I fell arse over tit in the hallway, in the damn balldress, to much hilarity all around.

Not a recent blunder, but once I made a pate-like dish from a Finnish recipe. It involved pureeing chicken livers in a blender then adding other ingredients and steaming it. After a while, I noticed guests steering clear of that end of the buffet. I tasted the pate loaf, and it was like a gum eraser. When I threw it into the trash can, I missed the can, and the pate hit the floor and bounced.

not me, but my aunt has a big boxer dog and he took the raw turkey off the counter and ran around the living room with it in his mouth. We finally chased him down and got it back- and she washed it and cooked it. This was 30 years ago or so I guess....

I don't think that I will forget the first brunch that I served to family and friends. I had a lovely Gruyere mushroom quiche in the oven - and it decided to slightly boil over and leak on the oven floor - causing a small fire and smoke. We had a few guests in the house by then and I calmly asked my husband to spray the inside of the oven with the fire extinguisher just in case the fire got bigger somehow. Everything was under control, just a little smokey and my husband and I were taking the ruined quiche (it had the fire extinguisher stuff all over it =( ) and the fire extinguisher outside to sit to find that my parents pulled into the driveway with my grandmother. Grandma took one look towards my parents that absolutely said get me out of here now! It was also the brunch that I forgot to soak the stuffed french toast before toasting! Ah well, everything else was fine! Just a little awkward to begin with =-)

My mom is one of eight kids, and each one of them takes turns hosting Thanksgiving, Christmas, and sometimes Easter. There are a lot of people with all of her siblings, their spouses, children, and other relatives.

One year that my mom was hosting Thanksgiving her oven refused to work. She had to drive the (gigantic) turkey and stuffing to her sister's house (about 30 minutes away) and have her sister bring it to the party when it was ready. My mom's oven is older, but it works and until that point there were no signs of problems. After Thanksgiving it was fine, and she didn't need to have it serviced or replaced. The next year she held Christmas at her house, and despite not having a problem with the oven since the last Thanksgiving, the same thing happened all over again. Weird.

The egg picture is great -- but they're underdone. My wife was boiling eggs and forgot them while cleaning upstairs prior to a party. I ask, are you roasting something already? Her eyes get really big, and she rushes downstairs. Blackened egg shrapnel ALL over the kitchen ceiling!

My Husband and I recently bought our first home and of coarse I decided to host his entire extended family for a housewarming brunch. I spent days prepping as I really wanted to impress them with the food. Everything was going well and I was just waiting for the quiche (is the plural of quiche, quiche or quiches...) to finish. Soon more than 20 people were sitting at the table eating all the side dishes waiting for slowest cooking quiche ever. After 45 minutes my husband pulled me aside and whispered in my ear that the oven was and had been off the entire time. So there was raw egg mixture sitting in a semi warm oven for over an hour. I decided not to serve the quiche and everyone went home a little hungry and with no intention of returning...

My mistake, and recent too. I had everything I needed to make risotto...except the broth. We had strawberry shortcake for dinner. I have nice friends, they were all very forgiving.

My mom had an outdoor clam boil, but the clams didn't boil, and she was inconsolable. Half of those present decided to get really drunk instead, and the other half took turns tiptoeing out to their cars for surreptitious trips to the nearby drive thru.

Ah, that would be the time when I invited my dad over for dinner in a "new" house. Unbeknownst to me, the old propane stove had hot spots. And not-hot spots. The same pan could be hot in one section and ice-cold in another. I couldn't understand why he and my husband were complaining about underdone salmon. My slab was perfect. Finally, I took a look- my dad's piece was essentially sushi, and my husband's piece was still frozen! Worst stove ever.

Closely followed by the time I undercooked pheasant. I'm not a meat-eater; how should I know the difference between "I want rare" and "this is raw!"? :-)

Wow, I haven't had any serious disasters like these...but definitely some near disasters, like the time the dog grabbed the corner of a grilled pizza sitting on the counter and started pulling. We heard sort of a crackling noise while sitting in the dining room and ran to the kitchen. We got to it in time and just had to cut off one little corner.

My mother had just finished an entire tray of Cornell chicken, and between the oven and the yard, slipped and the chicken fell to the floor. The guest of honor came in to check on things and found her slipping the pieces back onto the plate... the floors had just been cleaned so neither of them ever said a word.

The first Christmas in my new house and both sides of the family were coming to dinner. I put the beef tenderloin in the fidge in the garage to free up space in the house. A little while later my husband came in the house and told me that the dogs (my two and my visiting sister's one) had found a dead animal. It wasn't a dead animal but 15#s of dinner. Some how they managed to get the fridge open and drag out the meat out. I ended up raiding my mother's freezer and got some chuck roast, my mother-in-law's pantry for a big bottle of wine and made pot roast! 12 years later we're all still talking about it.

In college. Just as my friends arrive for New Year's my quesadillas burst into flames in the oven. My dad threw the pan outside into a snow bank...then proceeded to eat them anyway. (My dad's like Mikey...He'll eat anything!)

One cold and snowy New Years Eve in Minneapolis, we hosted a large dinner party. By the time the soup course was finished, everyone was rather tipsy. I looked outside to see what looked like a bonfire in the middle of the snow in our backyard. It was our gas grill. We were grilling duck and the fat drippings were on the ground and were on fire. Fortunately, the grill was surrounded by snow, which was used to dowse the flames. Everyone (but me, the only vegetarian) ate the charred duck.

Mine is a non-cooking related disaster... I had 30 of my nearest & dearest friends in my apartment for a post Thanksgiving gathering when the plumbing decides to go awry and get back up. Not only did it get backed up but it started to bubble up into the shower. As its a walk-in shower, the liquid rolled out into the rest of the bathroom. The 'water' got to be about 2" deep (unimpeeded by the assortment of towels thrown down to try & mop up as much a possible) when my landlord /roommate returned from a month away.
He is such a sweetheart that he didn't bat an eye at the 30 strangers roaming his house he just dove in took care of the problem (which turned out not to be my fault as the whole street was similarly afflicted - a blockage in a main sewer line) and then went to his other house at the shore for the next few days to recover.

Oh, no. This is recent and I've been trying to forget it, but... I was making chicken wings and pizza for my family, to celebrate my mom getting a new job. I prepare my chicken wings the way I learned from a Good Eats episode, by steaming them first. I'd also just gotten a new steamer basket, and I was excited to try it out.

So, I started everything up, and things were going fine, but I was a bit distracted. Always a bad thing in the kitchen. I stepped out for a minute, and when I came back, the kitchen was filling with black, acrid smoke. Now, I've boiled away the water in pots before, not with any particular consequence. But, something I'd neglected to notice on this particular steamer basket was its three rubberized feet. These had melted onto the bottom of the pot and started to burn. The smoke alarm started going off, but the worst part is that our home has an alarm system, which blares klaxons over the whole neighbourhood if the smoke director goes off. We've set the alarm off this way before (including once when my grandfather was over for a football game, when we had first moved in, and before the contact numbers for the alarm system had been changed over. We had a visit from the fire department), and since then my siblings live in terror of setting the alarm off, because it's so loud and disruptive.

I ran around the kitchen in a panic, then decided I had to get the offending pot out of the kitchen and into the backyard. Not thinking, I set it at the top of the stairs by the back door, on the CARPET, not the tile. It melted onto the plastic indoor/outdoor carpet we have in the back, and I was forced to pull it off and deposit it on the concrete patio outside, klaxons still blaring and my sisters wandering around the house with their hands over their ears.

I got the alarm off and put some fans in the kitchen to clear out the lingering smokiness and the smell, but I was pretty dejected for the rest of my night. I'd ruined my mom's crock pot, and a dozen chicken wings, and my steamer. I was initially upset about losing my new steamer basket, but then I realized, little rubberized feet aren't exactly a BRILLIANT feature. I mean, boiling a pot away isn't exactly out of the realm as far as things that could happen when you're steaming something. And I couldn't actually think of a REASON for rubberizing the feet, either. Any moving around that the basket might do in the pan is counteracted by its leaves being open. So, at least I learned something. Next steamer basket I buy will be allllll metal.

I call this the "Year that Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving was almost delivery Pizza."

Most epic disaster ever was the year my roommate and I moved into our little NYC apartment and decided to have 17 friends over for Pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving. Instead of potluck, as it has been ever since, we decided to cook everything ourselves. An hour spent in the grocery store and we had EVERYTHING...from a ginormous frozen turkey to those little fried onions for green bean casserole. At the cash register, the realization sunk in that we couldn't get it all home because there were A LOT of bags and the store was about 9 blocks away. So, we asked if we could borrow a shopping cart. My roommate had to leave her driver's license as collateral. We got everything to the building and had to lug it up five flights of stairs...no elevator. We took a few minutes to rest after we got the last bag up ...went back down and someone had stolen the grocery cart. They told us at the store that it would be $400 if we didn't return it. One of us should have stayed with it the whole time, but it was COLD and we just wanted to warm up before schlepping it back.

Flash forward to party day. After a laughing / screaming fit about having to stick our hands up a turkey a*s to prep it, and then almost accidentally cooking the bag of giblets and killing our guests, we were in cooking mode (did I mention it was our first big Thanksgiving dinner without a parental figure?). I had asked my mom for tips on the turkey and her biggest piece of advice was to NOT use a disposable aluminum pans. But of course we figured if we doubled them up, it would be fine. And who has room to store one of those big freakin', use them once a year, pans?! Biggest. Mistake. EVER. About 30 minutes before guests were scheduled to arrive we checked the turkey. By check, I mean look in the oven to ooh/ahh a bit. Then..the fatal moment. We moved the "pan." I don't know why...maybe to get a better angle with the baster. There was a tiny little "rrriippp", the disposable pan gave way and suddenly, turkey juices were filling the bottom of the oven. In my memory, the next minute passes in "bullet time." We look at each other with a millisecond of fear as just a little smoke puffs out. Quickly followed by more and more. Did I mention we live in a small NYC apartment? Smoke fills it stunningly fast. My roommate is running around the apartment opening windows (double hung windows, painted a million times in the course of a hundred years, that like to either stick or fall on your head) and I find myself on the kitchen floor with a bunch of towels, potholders, various forks and serving spoons and a big pan of mostly cooked turkey leaking copious amounts of hot turkey juices, trying to transfer everything into FRESH disposable aluminum "backup" pans. Did I mention we have no counter space and the floor was the only place to go? All the the while I'm laughing hysterically, unable to get control of myself. Then the smoke detector kicks in at the some moment my roommate, waving a big green towel in an attempt to get the smoke to go out the window, starts yelling "we have to cancel, we have to call everyone and cancel." I'm still laughing hysterically and trying to deal with a very hot slippery turkey.

By the skin of our teeth we got it cleaned up and cleared out. Guests started arriving and we had to tell them why all the windows were open, yet we were sweating like it was a hot summer day.

A few glasses of wine later with tons of friends around and it was a GREAT party.

My roommate could never bring herself to go back to that grocery store and fess up that the grocery cart was stolen and that we didn't have the money to pay the fee. She's convinced that her picture is STILL hanging on a manager's wall and that she's persona non grata. She never did get her driver's license back and to this day, many years later, still doesn't have one.

MKQ- I love your story! I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. I was relieved you didn't pay $400 for the shopping cart.

This didn't happen to me but to some close friends. They were hosting a large anniversary dinner party for some other friends. I think there were some 20 guests invited. They bought the food, cleaned the house, decorated with flowers and candles, cooked all day, and just had enough time to jump in the shower and dress for the semiformal party. It was all perfect and beautiful. Then they waited... and waited... and waited some more. Not a single knock on the door. Finally, they called the guests of honor to ask where everyone was. My friends had written the party date down wrong - they were a week early! We went over the next night to help with the mountain of not so leftover leftovers, and provide moral support for the redo the following week.

I once made the most beautiful and delicious-smelling flourless chocolate torte for my hubby's bday. It wans't until we took the first bite I realized I had used unsweet chocolate instead of bittersweet. It was in edible and I was mortified!

About 10 years ago, we hosted my family for Easter. I had cooked turkeys before, and knew how to do it well. But this bird just would not cook. No idea why. Bird was thawed, oven settings correct, etc. It wasn't even the biggest bird I'd cooked. It just wouldn't cook. Ended up going out to a grocery store that was open and picked up a couple of rotisserie chickens.

At a family get together at a vacation house, my mom was making fried rice. She had steamed the rice and prepped all the veggies. The ingredients were sitting on the stove (turned off) waiting to be turned in to fried rice. I opened the oven door to get some roasted pork out of the oven and left it open while I set the pork down on the counter. In the two seconds that the door was open, someone called to my mom, who was chopping nearby, and she took a step backwards and tripped over the oven door. She fell, butt first, into the hot open oven door, which then resulted in the whole stove tipping forward and all the fried rice ingredients flying on top of her and the floor. Luckily, she wasn't hurt, but we just about died laughing!

Thanks for sharing everyone. This is exactly what I needed after the long day I had.
My best blunder is a baking one. Early in our marriage most of my family and my husbands family were visiting us from out of state. I was making pies for dessert and decided a recipe for two crusts could be stretched to make three if I rolled them thin enough. I didn't have three "real" pie pans so I had to reused a foil one from a purchased graham cracker crust. When I baked the pies one crust seemed to shrink before my eyes. The entire crust pulled into the center by nearly two inches so the pie filling overflowed and made a mess. My brother-in-law was certain that this was because there wasn't enough crust due to me shorting the recipe. Once I cut into the pie we realized that I'd left the clear plastic cover that had originally covered the graham cracker crust in the pan. When I'd baked the pie it was the plastic that had shrank not the crust. The pie was picked at but eventually tossed since it tasted like melted plastic. I now own four "real" pie pans and just toss the foil ones!

Two Thanksgiving memories.

We were working for a non-profit agency and living in a borrowed home. We put the turkey in the oven and the damn thing just didn't get done. After waiting four hours, we double-checked the stove and noticed that it had a dual control and had never even been turned on. By that time, everyone was pretty drunk and all the other food had been eaten. We had turkey around midnight.

Another Thanksgiving, and I cooked a perfect turkey in my vintage gas stove. A friend brought over very expensive champagne and his own crystal flutes. He had already had a some champagne (like a lot) when I asked him to turn off the overhead light, which was operated by a dangling string and attached to a ceiling fan. I was just saying when he pulled the string "Careful; it's fragile!" He gave it a mighty tug and pulled the light down onto the crystal champagne flute he was holding, where it shattered the glass in his hand and then bounced onto the bird, fragmented into a million little pieces.

I looked around for my little girl, who was lying on her stomach a safe distance from the scene, her eyes gleaming like diamonds. I think it was her favorite Thanksgiving ever.

Mine are both surprise birthday party disasters from college. At the first party, the guest of honor sat down and cried as soon as we yelled "Surprise!". Not out of delight, but that he was 26 and felt extremely old. He spent about three hours sobbing, and when I tried to help him he screamed that I couldn't possibly understand his trauma as I was only 19. Not a fun night for anyone.

The other party was for a friend, and she ended up being about 3 hours late. She was being taken to dinner by her family and was going to come over after. Her younger sister kept calling me to say that they were still at the restaurant, things were dragging on, etc. By the time she finally showed up we had consumed all of the champagne and were ready to start on the cake. We were quite drunk and the party was pretty much over at that point.

Oh, I've got one.

My husband likes to cook the Thanksgiving turkey over indirect heat on his charcoal grill. He's done it a bunch of times, at holidays and other times, and it comes out great (really, try it). The trick is to build two piles of coals around the edge, with a drip pan of water in the center. You have to keep an eye on it and keep stoking the fire, because it takes a few hours to cook a turkey.

So one year, we're living in an apartment with a large covered porch. We have a small yard, too, where we usually do our grilling, but it's raining, so we go with the porch instead that day.

For some reason, this year, my husband bought a different sized pan for his drip pan (he uses foil pans, usually loaf pans, but this year he used an 8x8x2 pan). After an hour or two of cooking, he decides it's time to have a look. The water in the (shallow) drip pan had long evaporated, and was replaced by the fatty drippings of the bird. The two large piles of coals on either side of the grill were starting to cave and slide - meaning that hot coals were falling into the pan full of boiling fat, meaning flare ups or - grease fire.

Well, clearly, there is only one thing to do - add water, right?

I have a tendency to nitpick, so I was trying to hold back. I said nothing. He hurried by, with a worried look on his face, and got oven mitts and a barbecue fork. He managed to MacGyver the turkey and the rack it was on off of the grill; he set it aside elsewhere on the porch.

He hurries past me again, with an even more intent look on his face. I'm thinking - oh, god no, he's not going to really put water on this, right? Then, at that precise moment, he walks past with an 8 cup Pyrex measuring cup full of water.

I hold my breath and follow him onto the porch, standing behind the door for safety.

He removes the lid from the grill.

He pours water into the pan.

FLAMES shoot up about 5 -6 feet from the grill (which itself is 3 feet from the ground), licking the ceiling of the covered porch.

His reflexes kick in and he pops the lid back on, effectively smothering the fire. We look at each other, relieved, and put the turkey back on and finish it (and NEVER, EVER does he make the mistake of not having enough water in the drip pan again).

The turkey was delicious.

So as I was sitting here reading all of this, the timer goes off on my Mac and Cheese. I thought to myself.. oh I'll get it in a second...Luckily I heard the noise of the noodles starting to stick to the pan as all the water was evaporating. Almost had a kitchen disaster as I was reading about kitchen disasters!!

(Most of my kitchen disasters come with the line...because I forgot to set the timer...now I need a timer with a snooze button!)

I've burnt boiled eggs and the smell lingered for days... horrible!

With guests snacking on hors d'oeuvres in the living room, I set about getting the Thanksgiving turkey ready to make its entrance. I turned to wash my hands one last time before carrying the platter to the dining room...and the tap head fell off its mount and a geyser of water went up and all over the kitchen! My brother happened to be coming in at that very moment and turned the water off under the sink. We waited to make repairs after the meal...and I WAS able to enjoy my dinner with only the occasional twinge about how I would wash all those dishes.

I was tasked with preparing chocolate chip cookies for a potluck party. I did, they seemed fine. Took 'em over and had a strong negative reaction. Turns out, I used liquid smoke instead of vanilla extract. Seriously the most nasty cookies ever.

In one of my first office jobs out of school, I worked hard one night making a chocolate sheet cake for a co-worker's birthday, complete with birthday message written across the top in icing. Covered my creation with foil, left it on the counter, and went to bed.

Got up the next morning to find two perfectly neat paw-shaped dents in my foil-covered cake, almost down to the bottom of the cake pan. Clearly, my cake looked like nothing more than a perfect cat-sized bed, and my little darlings had wasted no time trying it out.

The best part is, I took the cake to work anyway, cut out the paw-marks, and everyone loved it.

I've got another story where a guy I've just started dating, trying to impress me with his culinary prowess, makes dinner for me at my house. After the meal, I go into the kitchen to find he's made the entire meal in the cat's bowls. Ha! We still laugh about it seven years later :)