30 Sad And Hurtful Stories Of People Revealing What Made Them Stop Cooking For Someone Forever

I spent hours making a low sugar peach cobbler from scratch for my borderline dietetic dad on Christmas. He has a huge sweet tooth, so he really took it hard when they told him to take it out of his diet. He ate one spoonful, told me he didn't like the cinnamon, then threw it in the trash in front of everyone there.

My son was in preschool and I had signed up to bring in cupcakes for his class Halloween party. I took the job very seriously and made "swamp cupcakes" which is what I called marbled cupcakes with chocolate icing dunked in crushed Oreos to resemble dirt. For decorations I made melted chocolate grass and gummy green frogs filled with nerds (so they'd crunch when you chewed them).

Not a single child ate one of the cupcakes.

Who am I never cooking for again? My son who as his classmates stared in confusion at my confections asked me (who he saw bake them mind you) if the dirt was real further cementing their uneaten status.

Bonus was a child's Mom telling me not to be offended because her child only ate things that "looked good".

I invited a friend (L) over for dinner once. Last minute she asked if it was okay to bring another friend (S) and I said, "sure", I had made enough food so wasn't an issue. I had never met this woman before, btw.

I set up the outdoor table, which was a floor below where the kitchen was. They show up and L comes up to help bring stuff down while S sits down immediately at the table. We're bringing stuff down and I see that S has already started eating! This stranger didn't offer to help and didn't even wait for the host to sit down,let alone start eating, before she helped herself.

I cooked again for L but made it very clear I never wanted S around again.

I made my parents a wonderful, filling vermicelli salad. It had a lot of stuff in it. My first time making anything with vermicelli, so I took my time in the kitchen with it. It ended up being pretty f**king good, and I'd probably make it these days if I could. My dad had a bowl of it, and pretty well immediately grabbed a takeout menu afterward, asking what we (myself and my mother) wanted. I had never in my life felt such emotion involving food and cooking. Needless to say, I was upset.

I had a coworker ask for some food from me. My husband brags about my food but we were struggling hard financially at the time and I made some struggle dumplings. I begged him not to give them to her but he did anyway. She TORE me APART with criticism. I'm actually a pretty decent cook, but we had just had a baby and I just didn't have any money for barely anything. She's asked me several times after we got back on our feet to make her something and I've always glossed it over with "Sure, babe! When I've got the time!" I'll never feed that *bleep* *bleepity* *bleep* *bleep*.

Not my cooking but I think you guys will all appreciate it just the same.

My grandma would start her Christmas pudding and Christmas cake in summer (could be an exaggeration but I was only 11 or 12 when this story is set and I’m a lot older now - haha - 45 years for those of you who may be interested.)

Grandma would provide each of her children one of each (a cake and a pudding) and keep a set for her and my grandad. This particular year, my mother (DiL) decided to buy one of those luxury ones from the supermarket and serve that instead of Grandma’s). Not sure why she did this but it may go some way to explain the lack of love between them.

Anyway, we sit down for Christmas dinner (we’re hosting) and my Grandad declares that the shop bought pudding was better than my grandma’s!!!!

I don’t think she ever made another one…

Cooked some steaks for my mates. One of them wanted well done, no worries, I checked to see that it was when he cut into it. Perfect. No hint of pink at all, but still moist. "Sorry mate, I wanted well done". What??? "But it is, there's no pink at all..." He then proceeded to show me how to cook a steak. "You need to stab it with a knife to get the juice out". Yep, no more steaks from me for you. He also showed me how to cook spaghetti. Apparently it takes about 40 minutes, so that it gets nice and thick "like out of the cans".

I'm staying with my girlfriend's parents. Very very nice people, letting me stay there with my sick girlfriend while she recovers from her disease. So I help out with the cleaning and cooking and errands and whatnot.

Not once has the dad thanked me, complimented me, or even acknowledged that I cooked, unless prompted by his wife. I've cooked meals that I know he likes, new ones, even the ones I do best and are widely enjoyed by my friends and family. Nothing. If prompted by his wife if it's good I get a half hearted "yep."

Not looking for praise or anything, but just a "thanks for making the effort" would be nice. The cherry on top is that when I made them a traditional dish from my ethnicity, he spent the dinner debating with me the authenticity of it and then barely ate it. Dude my great grandparents took this recipe from the village all the way to America and you're questioning if it's really from there?

I don't bother to put effort into cooking them meals anymore. They enjoy it just the same.

I was hosting a dinner and board game night for a group of friends; B asked if his roommate, J, could come along. I said yes. I made lemon-chicken popover because it's easy, impressive, and rather fast.

J just looks at it. "Oh, I'm vegan". No worries! I have a bunch of veggies that I didn't use - carrots, snap peas, bell pepper, broccoli... I can cook you up some rice and throw together a stir fry, won't take but a moment.

"No, I don't eat stuff like that. Do you have any Doritos?"

More than never cooking for, never invited over ever again. And now I make sure to check dietary needs BEFORE dinner guests.

I traveled to my in-laws' for Christmas. They are from New Jersey and literally cannot cook to save their lives and were going to get a tray of Publix deli sandwiches for Christmas Eve dinner. I offered to cook instead. I made an amazing pot roast and sides. They DEVOURED it, raved about how good it was, and ate every bite. Two hours after dinner, my husband said the words 'cream of mushroom' casually. Cue panic. "MUSHROOMS?!?!? OMG Disgusting!!" Full freakout, went on and on and on and on how they don't eat that, how gross, etc. Total as*holes. After, I saw them use their rolls to wipe their plate clean.