What Was the WORST Thing that You've Ever Made?

[FatFuckingClown]

I poured imitation cheese on a plate of (I think they were stale) Pringles, and microwaved it for a minute and 45 seconds. I drenched it in mustard and ketchup, and cut up pieces of bologna over it with a pair of safety scissors, then popped it in the microwave for another 20 seconds.

I then proceeded to serve it, with love, to my beloved Dad for his Father's Day lunch.

Of course, I was four years-old, and those were the best ingredients we had in the house, at the time.

 

[Jaded Optimist]

I was super broke and in school at the time. I had a box of kraft dinner from the student food bank, but no butter and very little milk. I ended up trying to substitute olive oil for the butter and used what little milk I had. It tasted awful and had a strange paste consistency.
I didn't eat kraft dinner for 2 years.

 

[FatFuckingClown]

I was super broke and in school at the time. I had a box of kraft dinner from the student food bank, but no butter and very little tard cum. I ended up trying to substitute olive oil for the butter and used what little tard cum I had. It tasted awful and had a strange paste consistency.
I didn't eat kraft dinner for 2 years.

Holy shit...the feels.
And the damn mi.lk edit. XD

 

[MerriedxReldnahc]

I'm sure there was some kind of inspiration for me doing this, but I once made oven- fried chicken breaded with crunched-up Crunch Berries. Good lord, do not do that. Chicken and Captain Crunch aren't supposed to be together.

 

[Morose_Obesity]

I

I was super broke and in school at the time. I had a box of kraft dinner from the student food bank, but no butter and very little tard cum. I ended up trying to substitute olive oil for the butter and used what little tard cum I had. It tasted awful and had a strange paste consistency.
I didn't eat kraft dinner for 2 years.

I do that on a regular basis, the secret is to drown it in ranch or ketchup.

 

[PostRegretStressDisorder]

When I was 14, I made pancake batter using just flour and water.

Even right now I'm about to gag.

 

[Doc Cassidy]

I made sausage gravy once and unwittingly used powdered sugar instead of flour because the containers were right by each other and I was drunk. I couldn't get it to thicken so I kept adding more and more and wondering why it wasn't working. I ended up adding corn starch to get it to thicken. It was fucking nasty and I couldn't even eat it.

I retardedly did the same thing a few weeks later when trying to fry fish. The fish kept sticking to the pan and wouldn't cook right and it had a nasty sweet taste to it, it eventually dawned on me what I'd done.

After that I put the powdered sugar container in the pantry so I wouldn't do it again.

 

[XYZpdq]

I've had a few unsuccessful drunk attempts at chili with beer that ended up as warm spicy beer with beans and ground beef.

 

[Francis E. Dec Esc.]

I tried to make a low-carb fettuccine alfredo dish with boiled cabbage, alfredo sauce, and Italian sausage. It was horrendous.

 

[offendatron]

I made this because a Dutch guy on /int/ told me to.

 

[Southern Belle]

First time I ever made biscuits from scratch they came out hard as fuck. And when we managed to break one open with a big ass cleaver and put jelly on it, the jelly turned grey. My sister and I cracked open more, repeated with different stuff like butter, jam, other flavors of jelly, etc. All of it turned grey. My mom ate half of one trying to be nice. But I knew she'd rather die than take another bite it was so awful.

I was 10 years old. My mom forbade me from making biscuits until I was 18, even if it was the ones you buy at the store and bake.

They did come in handy a few days later though for knocking down wasp nests hanging from the gutters. Nice heft to 'em.

 

[Donovan the Man]

I wanted some grilled pork chops, right.
I saw that you can brine meat to make them not dry out so I did just that.
Used a cup a salt in the brine.
It was like eating a salt lick, 4 good thick chops in the trash.

 

[NIGGO KILLA]

I made sausage gravy once and unwittingly used powdered sugar instead of flour because the containers were right by each other and I was drunk. I couldn't get it to thicken so I kept adding more and more and wondering why it wasn't working. I ended up adding corn starch to get it to thicken. It was fucking nasty and I couldn't even eat it.

I retardedly did the same thing a few weeks later when trying to fry fish. The fish kept sticking to the pan and wouldn't cook right and it had a nasty sweet taste to it, it eventually dawned on me what I'd done.

After that I put the powdered sugar container in the pantry so I wouldn't do it again.

Im suprised you didnt fry your fuckin face while being that drunk

 

[Doc Cassidy]

Im suprised you didnt fry your fuckin face while being that drunk

I have several scars from drunk cooking lol

 

[Jan_Hus]

I tried to cook flounder in the same manner that I cook tilapia... Tilapia crisps up nicely and turns all delicious and golden brown. Flounder just congeals and turns soggy...

 

[glass_houses]

When I moved out of home, I finally was forced to teach myself how to cook. Too my mother's despair and shame I was the only one of my siblings she wasn't able to teach how to cook, quite simply because I hated it. There's a traditional recipe in my family called "mess". Essentially it's beef mince, onions, gravy and whatever vegetables are left in the fridge at the end of the week before you get paid, over rice or pasta. I would cook it in batches and freeze it for meals during the week. I decided to use different savoury spices in each batch instead of the traditional garlic, parsley and basil and my father's fixation on capsicum and sweet chilli sauce to try them out, to see which ones I liked and didn't like.

Annnnnnd one day I decided to give cumin a go.

So, how does cumin by itself in mince and gravy taste? Awful. Disgusting. Flat out inedible. I added a fuckton of garlic and dutifully froze the batches as usual, but even after a long day at the shithole I worked at, followed by four hours of high impact, full body contact jujitsu, I couldn't eat that shit. I ended up having to toss the containers I'd frozen it in because I couldn't get rid of the cumin smell. Maybe I could have one day come around to cumin but any possibility of that was murdered in my next job in a wastewater laboratory, and the arrival of the trade waste officer appearing with two litres of nearly solid, cumin soaked rancid fat from an Indian restaurant's waste trap. It was and remains the foulest thing I’ve ever smelled in my life. I couldn't even walk past an Indian restaurant for two years after without violently wanting to throw up, let alone eat.

Spoiler: Honourable mention

This next story is about something I didn't make myself but I think it more than deserves an honourable mention. At the next sharehouse I was in I wasn't allowed near the kitchen because of some weird power status shit that I never figured out, but probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was making significantly more money than either of them. (As you'd expect, money would regularly disappear from my purse if I didn’t hide it carefully). Everything they cooked was barely even edible. All of this cumulated in spaghetti bolognaise, a family recipe passed down from one of my housemate’s mothers. My housemate sung its praises, telling me how quick, how easy, how delicious it was. The recipe and method went like this:

1. Boil the living fuck out of angel hair spaghetti until it's mush
2. Stir through a cold tub of tomato paste
3. Consume

How did it taste?

How do you think it tasted?

The next night I planned and successfully carried out a military operational takeover of the kitchen. Then I made my family's traditional spag bog, which the other two scoffed down like they hadn’t eaten in a week. Maybe if I'd stayed there a little bit longer I'd have been able to convince them that the red wine and beef parcel that they basically warmed up but served raw was actually meant to be pastry instead of a sticky, gooey skin like the casing of a raw sausage. As an added punch line one of them swore that his parents had owned their own restaurant where he'd spent a lot time there as a kid. Needless to say, he wasn’t the truthful type.

 

[Donovan the Man]

When I moved out of home, I finally was forced to teach myself how to cook. Too my mother's despair and shame I was the only one of my siblings she wasn't able to teach how to cook, quite simply because I hated it. There's a traditional recipe in my family called "mess". Essentially it's beef mince, onions, gravy and whatever vegetables are left in the fridge at the end of the week before you get paid, over rice or pasta. I would cook it in batches and freeze it for meals during the week. I decided to use different savoury spices in each batch instead of the traditional garlic, parsley and basil and my father's fixation on capsicum and sweet chilli sauce to try them out, to see which ones I liked and didn't like.

Annnnnnd one day I decided to give cumin a go.

So, how does cumin by itself in mince and gravy taste? Awful. Disgusting. Flat out inedible. I dutifully froze the batches as usual, but even after a long day at the shithole I worked at, followed by four hours of high impact, full body contact jujitsu, I couldn't eat that shit. I ended up having to toss the containers I'd frozen it in because I couldn't get rid of the cumin smell. Maybe I could have one day come around to cumin but any possibility of that was murdered in my next job in a wastewater laboratory, and the arrival of the trade waste officer appearing with two litres of nearly solid, cumin soaked rancid fat from an Indian restaurant's waste trap. It was and remains the foulest thing I’ve ever smelled in my life. I couldn't even walk past an Indian restaurant for two years after without violently wanting to throw up, let alone eat.

Spoiler: Honourable mention

This next story is about something I didn't make myself but I think it more than deserves an honourable mention. At the next sharehouse I was in I wasn't allowed near the kitchen because of some weird power status shit that I never figured out, but probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was making significantly more money than either of them. (Needless to say, money used to disappear from my purse if I didn’t hide it carefully). Everything they cooked was barely even edible. All of this cumulated in spaghetti bolognaise, a family recipe passed down from one of my housemate’s mothers. My housemate sung its praises, telling me how quick, how easy, how delicious it was. The recipe and method went like this:

1. Boil the living fuck out of angel hair spaghetti until it's mush
2. Stir through a cold tub of tomato paste
3. Consume

How did it taste?

How do you think it tasted?

The next night I planned and successfully carried out a military operational takeover of the kitchen. Then I made my family's traditional spag bog, which the other two scoffed down like they hadn’t eaten in a week. Maybe if I'd stayed there a little bit longer I'd have been able to convince them that the red wine and beef parcel that they basically warmed up but served raw was actually meant to be pastry instead of a sticky, gooey skin like the casing of a raw sausage. As an added punch line one of them swore that his parents had owned their own restaurant where he'd spent a lot time there as a kid. Needless to say, he wasn’t the truthful type.

How much cumin did you use? I made the mistake of adding to much cumin to what I call Tex Mex Breakfast Potatoes (chili powder, cayenne, cumin, salt, pepper, garlic, caramelized onions, melted butter toss to coat roasted or, if you're lazy, microwaved potatoes). I don't measure spices usually I just eyeball it, and it was horrible. My fiance's nice and just ate them without complaint but I knew he was suffering.

 

[glass_houses]

How much cumin did you use? I made the mistake of adding to much cumin to what I call Tex Mex Breakfast Potatoes (chili powder, cayenne, cumin, salt, pepper, garlic, caramelized onions, melted butter toss to coat roasted or, if you're lazy, microwaved potatoes). I don't measure spices usually I just eyeball it, and it was horrible. My fiance's nice and just ate them without complaint but I knew he was suffering.

I added a lot less than what I'd use with parsley. I don't measure my spices as a rule unless it's for sweets. But it wouldn't have been more than a couple quick shakes of the jar. I probably added way too much, but when I smelt the spice by itself after I'd put everything on to simmer I didn't even like it then. Even the three cloves of garlic that I promptly threw in couldn't so much as blunt the taste. Since then I've implemented a policy of sniffing every single new type of spice before I use it. Somethings, like turmeric for instance, don't do much for me by themselves but are great in mixes, but I still won't make anything with a new spice myself until after I eat it in someone else's food.

 

[RI 360]

I have a lot of cooking misadventure stories but once I was visiting my mom and I decided to make her a cake while I was there and it called for some vegetable oil, I asked where it was and she told me the general location so I grabbed a see-through bottle with translucent yellow fluid in it and just as I was about to crack it open and measure it out my mother exclaimed to her horror "En.. ENTROPY THAT'S PINESOL!" and I was so shit at cooking if she didn't point it out I probably would have reasoned the pine smell as the product coming from juniper berries or some shit. So I was like "OOOoooohhhhh..." and grabbed the right bottle. To be fair, they were side by side one another.

 

[glass_houses]

I have a lot of cooking misadventure stories but once I was visiting my mom and I decided to make her a cake while I was there and it called for some vegetable oil, I asked where it was and she told me the general location so I grabbed a see-through bottle with translucent yellow fluid in it and just as I was about to crack it open and measure it out my mother exclaimed to her horror "En.. ENTROPY THAT'S PINESOL!" and I was so shit at cooking if she didn't point it out I probably would have reasoned the pine smell as the product coming from juniper berries or some shit. So I was like "OOOoooohhhhh..." and grabbed the right bottle. To be fair, they were side by side one another.

Wait, wait, she keeps cleaning products side by side with food? That's dangerous as hell.