As I student, when I lived in the most salubrious Liverpool postcodes, our local cheap food store used to sell the tins the paper labels had fallen off for 2p. So you got a mystery tin that could have been anything from dog food to baked beans. Every meal was like a wildly disappointing Christmas. Some of the stuff in those tins, to be honest, we weren't sure if it was human or animal food, or in the case of meat stew in a can, whether the distinction really applied.