My kitchen crisis anecdote - share yours?

The instructions seemed pretty easy and pretty straight forward. The photo looked very impressive and so I decided to give it a go.
I had seen the chocolate ‘bowl’ idea on the internet and thought I would make them with my grandsons, Harry and Alex. I even bought the water balloons while down south but never got around to making them that visit. In retrospect, fate was definitely smiling on me that time!
And then I saw an Easter Egg Chocolate Mousse recipe on the Foodlovers website – the chocolate bowl idea but even better!
Well, I think, I have all the ingredients – give it a go . . .
I chop up and melt a block of my favourite Whittaker’s Dark Ghana chocolate. While it is cooling I take on the massive task of blowing up water balloons and tying knots in them – do you have any inkling of just how difficult it is to blow up a water balloon? And then knot it? Think dislocated jaw with over extended aching cheeks and fingers that have vicious little tourniquets around them and you might just be close to getting the idea!
I stick my finger into the melted chocolate. I’m thinking if I can stick my finger into the chocolate then it can’t be too hot. To me this sounded perfectly logical.
Taking the first balloon I roll it around in the melted chocolate then hold it up to drain before I place it onto baking paper. I’m feeling very smug and clever and thinking this is a doddle.
A ‘POP’ saw the chocolate covered balloon explode. One should never under estimate the projectile powers of melted chocolate on an exploding balloon. Chocolate covered my white bench top, the kitchen floor, my dining room chairs parked on the other side of the room and me!
I stand and ponder as I drip little drips of chocolate. Hmm so that’s what is mean by “ensure the chocolate is cool.”
I blow up a replacement water balloon and give it another go and there’s another explosion! How cool does this chocolate need to be?
Third time lucky? . . . Oh no it’s not! I’m looking up at the ceiling thanking my lucky stars that the splatters of chocolate seemed to travel horizontally rather than vertically after another balloon detonates!
I decide to leave the chocolate to cool further while I collect cleaning materials to clean melted chocolate from kitchen chairs, table, floor, bench top; basically every flat surface.
I return to my melted chocolate and success. The necessary ‘coolness’ is almost at resolidifying (apparently this isn’t a word but it fits perfectly!) point! I quickly dip 6 more water balloons with no explosions or drama.
To the cleaning . . . . I quickly discovered that as I cleaned I was redistributing smears of dark brown chocolate everywhere coming from me! I had melted chocolate smeared over my face, through my hair, oozing slowly down my chest, arms and legs like a character out of a very bad movie.
Nothing for it but to strip down to bra and knickers to wipe over, then wash the kitchen floor. And then me . . .
And the mousse filling? So uneventful and easy it was almost boring!
The desserts did look pretty dramatic and my guests laughed to tears when they heard the story.

No one could possibly match this story. It is so funny.

I agree buzzy110~! I do recall, as a much younger mother and very new to cooking that I'd make a healthy pot of vegetable soup. But the crock pot took forever to cook it (didn't occur to me that it would take all day rather than the 2 hours I'd planned on) so I put the crock pot on the stove element to race dinner along. The inevitable explosion of the stoneware pot, complete with an impressive amount of fresh vegetables, went all over me, the kitchen and the dining room! It was just amazing! I made a mental note that day that stoneware may work in the oven but does NOT work on the stove top . ah memories ha ha!

rubbarb in the presser cooker all over the ceiling it was a little pink twist of rubbarb coming up the air vent then mum took the lid off and it hit the ceiling and just hung there it must have been a hell of a job to clean up . i hope you took photos . it must have felt nice to have a shower after that one

l wonder if the balloons had perished with being left or they were old stock

thank you for the good belly laugh

It happened the other morning at breakfast.
I made some toast and ate that with my cuppa.
I had one slice of a loaf left that was made with a hot cross bun recipe, so decided I'd have that. Buttered it, and noticed that somehow, I'd got a bit of black cotton on the underside of it that was sticking out. (I'd been sewing at the kitchen table the night before).
When I picked up the slice of bread, there was a large cockroach. the "cotton" was his feeler. so I turned the bread over, and trapped him with the butter, put the slice back in the bread bag, sprayed it. and tied it up.
So much for a nice, spicy slice of fruit bread for breakfast! I didn't need the calories, anyhow.
God knows where the cockroach came from. but he was obviously in the bread bag on the underside of the bread, just waiting. ugh!

EEEEEWW! There would have been a hang of a lot of yelling and leaping if that was me - I'm fine with spiders but don't do cockroaches at all!

Well, I had to deal with it. EWWWWWWWW! is exactly the thing I said!

Had been invited to go to a "posh house" with a friend for a bbq. Wanting to help I offered to whip the cream. Was handed a stick blender - I'd never used one before - but didn't realise the blade had to be totally immersed in the liquid. Result - cream splattered all over the kitchen and one very red face - mine. Lucky for me they were good sports about it and everyone had a laugh.

I had something cooking in my topcook oven. Can't remember what it was but it seemed to be happily cooking for a while when suddenly I noticed flames of fire coming out the side of the topcook. Not from inside or near the oven door but from the side. No problem; I know what to do. use the fire extinguisher on the wall in the kitchen. I yell to my husband who is in the house, "fire, fire," hoping he will appear to offer helpful advice. I grab the sides of the fire extinguisher and yank it off the wall. It stayed on the wall. "Fire, Fire," I shout again and continue yanking it. No, it won't come off the wall. Oh dear. "Fire, fire," I continue to yell. Still no response from my husband. Where is he? I think, OK, I will unplug the machine and take it outside. This I manage to do with little effort. Fire extinguishes itself with the cold air outside. My husband appears and I said" Didn't you hear me yelling FIre? The topcook caught fire. I tried to use the fire extinguisher and couldn't get it off the wall." He immediately goes into the kitchen and takes the fire extinguisher off the wall. "Did you ever think to UNCLIP the fire extinguisher?" Oh dear! I was so relieved and I think it is funny now! We have since used this story to educate others in reminding them to know how the fire extinguisher is attached to the wall.

Love it tramore. in an empathetic way. We all stuff up from time to time & those that don't . maybe are telling porkies!

I feel your pain murfee. word for fec. g word! At Christmas time. Under pressure. Tea or something stronger if you prefer (I know I did). I sooo hear you! Will never attempt anything that looks so easy. at short notice. ever friggen again!

my husband tried this too we just got balloons from the supermarket . It was from Rachel koo tv programme. Guess who cleaned up the splatters of choc.