From time to time disaster strikes in fantastic proportion in my kitchen; the stress of a dish that flops — figuratively or literally — sends me into panic mode.
One sunny afternoon, I baked a salty-sweet lover's dream of a tart. When it came time to document my hard work, I asked my boyfriend to man the camera as I added finishing touches. With our eyes on photo composition, we set the tart on the windowsill. He turned to show me the pictures, and managed to clumsily nudge the tart pan clean out the third-story window with his elbow. I burst into tears, devastated that my afternoon's labor was for naught; he apologized profusely and jogged down the stairs to assess the situation (and likely escape my petty wrath). He returned carrying the gory tart remains and the mangled tart pan, and a few salvaged bites of the tart calmed my frazzled nerves. In the end, all was forgiven, but not forgotten.
Though this situation thankfully hasn't been reprised, I've since cried at a handful of minor disasters. I'm curious: do you ever let your emotions in the kitchen get the best of you? I'd love to hear any of your culinary sob stories.