I've mentioned elsewhere that the Fray Bentos pie was my sole reason for wanting to be an adult. The reason was that in my parental home, I'd get a quarter, my sister would get a quarter, and my dad would get half (my mother doesn't eat), one of the great injustices of my childhood.
I even tried buying my own with my own money and I'd always be intercepted with 'YOU CAN'T EAT ALL THAT ON YOUR OWN!' and I'd end up giving half to my dad and splitting the rest with my sister. Seriously whenever I cooked food, my dad would appear and eat it. I'd have ten of Capt Birdeye's finest sizzling away after school and by the time I got to plate, I've have about two left. Two fish fingers, what a cruel amputation that was. I had to cry into my instant mash and Knorr parsley sauce (I pretty much ate that meal three times a week as a teenager). Or boil-in-bag fish in parsley sauce with potato waffles.
So the first opportunity I got, I did just that, ate the entire bloody Fray Bentos pie. And no, not awful. But I'm too posh these days, I only eat pies out of cardboard.
Pot Noodles were the staple of student halls, we always missed the meals, and there was no guarantee the girls wouldn't be guarding their well-stocked fridges on their floors (fast learners are the female of the species, men only want sex or food), so you needed a post-booze food source that didn't involve being yelled at.
