Mine always tend to be disasters just because of the sheer size of the mess.

1) The guacamole my sister and I tried to make for a party. I didn't notice she'd not pitted the avacados, and turned the blender on. Kaboom-kerpow. Lots of smoke from a burned up blender motor when the pit got jammed under the blades, then the blender shot the pit of one through the wall of the pitcher. Green goo everywhere, worried guests peeking into the kicthen to see what exploded, and eventually a sad funeral for the remains of the blender.

2) Home-made tomato soup. I'd grown WAY too many tomatoes and wanted to do something rather than waste them. They stewed away quite happily, and when the recipe called for 'blending' them, I did. I took the top off the pan and stuck the rotary hand mixer down there and turned it on. Red goo everywhere, most of my tomato soup dripping down on me from the ceiling, and the sheer force of it was amazing. I later found red 'dots' in the living room and laundry too.

3) Italian bread. Got the recipe from a friend's mom on a recent trip thorough Italy, never thinking that she always cooks for a crowd. I made the dough, put it in my favourite bread bowl to raise, and left for an hour. I came home, threw my books down, and heard 'plop........plop.......plop' coming from the kitchen. The dog and cats were huddled together on the couch, so I began to get very worried. The dough had risen to engulf my entire kitchen. The plopping noise was great wads of it succumbing to gravity and falling off the counter. Lots of beige goo, a mad pounding of dough to try and tame it, and an eventual scouring of the house for anything I could put dough in for the second raising and baking. "This bread tastes great, but why the weird shape?" "I had to bake it in my shoe"