In the house where I spent my childhood food was different; Mom was an amazing cook. She fed eight people on pennies; the food was awesome. I admire her not just for feeding us so well, but for doing it so creatively.
One problem was I hated wet bread. When we were sick Momie would set us up on the couch and fix poached eggs on toast; the bread was always wet. I thought I was being punished for being sick. Years later I saw the beauty of poached eggs and realized she thought she was giving us a treat.