Groan.
We grew up in California as did so many HO’s but our parents were depression/WWII generation and in the midst of astounding plenty the Specter at the Feast was Impending Want. The antidote to Want was a full pantry. And so dinner was created from box and can items. Creamed chipped beef on toast (yes! Shit on a Shingle!); chicken croquets (cheap chicken parts run through a crushing gizmo, came out like pinkish toothpaste); any conceivable permutation involving velveeta; box potatoes, and for a shot of vitamins, canned spinach, doused in white vinegar. I think that last item puts BBQ brussels sprouts in context. 
It’s fair to say that mom was not into cooking. However, all this made sense to them. Items in the pantry were safe, paid for, and a wall of cans and boxes represented material success.
Unsure if that qualifies as confessional - more like a remembrance of a generation fading and gone. We came to appreciate the astounding variety and beauty of California produce. Still unsure what mom would have made of it. But she was fond of Iceberg lettuce. You betcha!
