How to be a rubbish domestic goddess...

Rant alert.

On Saturday, I am supposed to be having the girls over for dinner. This has now turned into some of the girls plus some other halves for a Chinese New Year supper. OK, I can cope with that. Ordinarily. Except this hasn't been an ordinary week. No. It's been a week of complete and utter culinary disasters. My domestic goddess halo has fallen. In fact, I've Frisbee-d it out of the bloody window.

Earlier in the week I made a big pot of ramen. It always goes down well in my house, does ramen. I just don't think I engaged my brain when making it, this time. Instead of shredding pak choi, in went red cabbage instead. I don't believe I've ever had luminous purple soup before. Radioactive soup. I bet Nigella never has such mishaps. A day later I tried my hand at melty-in-the-middle mini chocolate puds. They were lurrrverly. Rich, but delish. The recipe made four little puds, so I saved two for dessert the next evening. Only muggins here forgot that they were melty-in-the middle puddings, and whacked them in the microwave at full pelt to heat them through. They were no longer melty-in-the-middle puds when I fished them out. More like steaming rubber bouncy balls. Sigh.

Anyway, undeterred, that same evening I set about making a stew to use up all the leftover veg in the fridge. Now, I didn't do anything differently to what I usually do here, so I'd like to know why it all went hideously wrong. Casserole pot on hob, oil in pot, brown off meat and onions, throw in the veg, add stock and simmer for a bit, then bung in the oven. All was fine until I added the stock. Then I heard a sort of popping, crackly noise. Then a gush. The casserole pot had cracked clean IN HALF and a litre of hot stock proceeded to flood the hob, run into the oven and all over the floor...it was a flamin' stock tidal wave. £80 Le Creuset casserole pots should not shatter on your hob. No. They. Should. Not. I have a good mind to take the two halves back to the shop. Which I could have done if only I hadn't shattered them into several more pieces on the patio in a rage.

Last night I decided to practice some homemade spring rolls ahead of Saturday. I've had my three cooking calamities this week, I couldn't possibly be due any more, I said to myself. Ho ho, how wrong I was. I had the recipe in order (a usually trustworthy source - Saturday Kitchen), a very nice gal at work gave me some tips, all the ingredients were lined up and I was ready to go. The filling went well. The pastry - not so well. More bundles than rolls. Now, even though they weren't wrapped very well they still should have been ok. So I'd really like to know how in the name of all that is holy do spring rolls EXPLODE in the oven? What did I ever do to them?

I think I'll have the takeaway menu on standby on Saturday.