Forgot about the huge potatoes I'd put into the new cooker (which had a slow cook function) on Friday night.
Woke up at 3am Sunday morning, having dreamed about a bomb going off. Then another one went off. Then a third and a fourth. It sounded like the Battle of the fucking Somme in the kitchen.
Thankfully, new cooker had two ovens and I'd opted to place the spuds in the lower one, which had a solid metal door, rather than a glass one.
When I worked out I'd heard enough explosions for all the potatoes to have been spent, I opened the door, expecting potatoey carnage.
Nope. Not a sign. The fucking things had vaporised. Just a lingering scent of the most delicious jacket potatoes ever, overlaid with a faint whiff of Bonfire Night.
The other fairly spectacular thing I did was try to make cinder toffee. It was going great, I was using a very large pan. Then I accidentally dropped the tub of bicarb into the mix as I was stirring. Dropped. Almost an entire pot of Sodium Bicarbonate.
Chemistry happened.
The ensuing bubbling monster meant I left the pan on the hob and shut the kitchen door behind me.