1. Coffee
    It either looks like piss or mud. When my husband goes out of town, I start my day with very low self esteem because the coffee comes out so poorly. I've become so paranoid, I think he booby traps the coffee maker so I will have an epic fail each and every time he is away.
  2. Bread
    I set it on fire, often. I believe this is genetic; my mother has the same disease. I can't remember the last time I bought a single roll or loaf. I always need a spare.
  3. Lemon Cottage Cake
    One of the many reasons I hate baking other than how uptight it is, is Lemon Cottage Cake. When I was 11, I toiled away for 4 hours trying to make it for my mom's birthday. I had to sift 4 times. The freaking cake never did rise, it was like a lemon hockey puck. Clearly I'm still suffering the trauma, I still have nightmares.
  4. Pork belly
    I love making my husband Porchetta (pork belly wrapped around pork loin) every year for his birthday. The problem I have with this is that the pork belly itself looks too much like my dog's, Isaboo, stomach. It kinda freaks me out, and I didn't make John Porchetta this year.