I worked in a camp kitchen one year; we'd cook for up to 400 people at a meal. Cookie dough was made in a giant stand mixer, obviously using very large amounts of ingredients. Yet somehow I managed to translate tablespoons of salt into cups. I think we caught my boo-boo before baking and sorta tempered the salt, but oh my
In college we had dinner parties on Thursday nights, and my two roomies and I were usually the cooks. We made chicken and rice once; who knew you aren't supposed to stir the rice as it cooks? Congealed white goop is what you get.
And not really cooking, but I set fire to my folks' kitchen when I was 18. I put a cast iron pan of bacon grease on the stove to melt to pour over the dog's food. Who has time to wait for it on low heat? I cranked it up to high, and at that moment my dad came home and needed help unloading some stuff out of the truck. A short time later we hear glass breaking in the house. We both look at each other with confusion, and glance around the corner. Black smoke is pouring out the windows. Oh.....my.....Lord. THe smoke was so thick we couldn't see out the big bay windows in the dining room. The flames had just started licking their way up the cabinets, and the breaking glass was from the microwave door. The smoke alarm never went off; we joke that it must have fainted at the terror of a real fire. On the bright side, mom and dad got a refurbished kitchen that year, although doing dishes in the bathtub all summer was a downer. That cast iron pan is about the only thing that came out unscathed; it now hangs on the wall, a pair of chickadees painted on it by my uncle, as a reminder to never walk away from bacon grease.

In college we had dinner parties on Thursday nights, and my two roomies and I were usually the cooks. We made chicken and rice once; who knew you aren't supposed to stir the rice as it cooks? Congealed white goop is what you get.
And not really cooking, but I set fire to my folks' kitchen when I was 18. I put a cast iron pan of bacon grease on the stove to melt to pour over the dog's food. Who has time to wait for it on low heat? I cranked it up to high, and at that moment my dad came home and needed help unloading some stuff out of the truck. A short time later we hear glass breaking in the house. We both look at each other with confusion, and glance around the corner. Black smoke is pouring out the windows. Oh.....my.....Lord. THe smoke was so thick we couldn't see out the big bay windows in the dining room. The flames had just started licking their way up the cabinets, and the breaking glass was from the microwave door. The smoke alarm never went off; we joke that it must have fainted at the terror of a real fire. On the bright side, mom and dad got a refurbished kitchen that year, although doing dishes in the bathtub all summer was a downer. That cast iron pan is about the only thing that came out unscathed; it now hangs on the wall, a pair of chickadees painted on it by my uncle, as a reminder to never walk away from bacon grease.