I was finishing a jar of extremely hot peppers (7 pot primos) that I had fermenting on Thanksgiving day. I made a hot sauce with them and cantaloupe. I had them in a pan at a low simmer to meld the flavors. The problem was the steam coming off was potent as hell. It filled the house when everyone was arriving and coughing from the hot sauce in the air, me included. We had to open all the windows, dig out the fans to get it out of the house, freezing everyone in the process.
Sort of.
I was making a gigantic batch of mead. Like 5 gallons of it, boiling away merrily. I carefully prepared my glass carboy ahead of time and poured the must (aka: that-which-will-be-mead-after-yeast-farts-in-it) into my carboy. This was fine. All according to plan.
The bucket of ice and cold water I added to the sink to cool it down faster so that I could throw the pitched yeast into it… also according to plan.
What was not according to plan was a gunshot sound going off, shards of glass shooting through the air like a grenade, and honey water cascading out over the edge of my sink all over my floor.
I’ve never felt more broken.
I think your problem might have been the plan
it was the plan, the vetting of the plan, the sign off of the plan, the execution of the plan.
so I mean yeah, just like generally the plan. I haven’t made mead since, because it represents possibly the most monumental TIFU of my entire god damned life