My gran's cooking.
From what I've been told by my mum, my gran was a great cook when she was younger, and I have no reason to doubt that. However, in the 8 short years that I was around before she died (I guess about 4-5 of those I remember), she managed to cook up some horrendous things.

Usually this was just down to over-salting. A combination of heavy smoking dulling the palette, and increasing forgetfulness saw the salt ratio of almost everything increase. The most notable were the roast potatoes, which had so much salt on them they'd developed crystals in the oven.

But that was nothing compared to the monstrosity she cooked my dad one day when we went round for food. On learning that he liked steak and kidney pudding, she decided to make him a special dinner. Now, I'm not sure exactly what she did wrong, but either the kidneys weren't washed properly or were getting a little old or something, but dear God...you have not smelt the depths of Hell until you catch a whiff of that pie. She lifted the lid of the pan where it had been steaming for a few hours, and some kind of putrid ammonia compound was released from the untreated piss filters, filling the house. It smelt like nothing I'd ever smelt before...like a thousand nappies thrown on a bonfire or a singed dog.

Thankfully, no-one had to eat it...which doesn't really answer the question...but meh.
( guffguff fuckes your gradeds balls!, Wed 1 Jun 2011, 15:19, 1 reply)

Aaaahh, the salt!
My late Nana used to oversalt everything, then forget she'd done it and oversalt it again.

At xmas this fate befell the turkey sarnies. The first Mr Quar was heard asking politely for a 'seagull sandwich'. He reckoned you could hear the salt crunch between your teeth before you tasted it.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Wed 1 Jun 2011, 15:57, closed)