Reminds me of a scene from a TV show where the characters complained in astonishment how something could be burnt yet frozen/uncooked at the same time, while struggling to smile and wait until the cook left the room to spit the food out.

While my mom never had any awful dishes, dad certainly couldn't cook and only tried the first night when mom was in the hospital for a week. He claimed to have cooked all his meals himself while in school but hadn't exercised those skills for at least 15 years at this point. He claimed utter efficiency at putting all ingredients in the rice cooker along with the rice but the soggy mush was devoid of any spice or texture. All us kids complained but I'm sure he himself didn't enjoy the meal because we ate takeout for the rest of the week. He usually objected to the expense of takeout when my mom took care of things.