There is a certain comfort in those processed food, it isn't like my mom didn't work hard to give us good food, she made homemade applesauce so delicious I hold all others I eat up to it, they all fall short. She baked bread and cookies and cakes. It was different time and we were that sort of family, the kind with banana seat bikes and a van.
I am pretty sure I didn't eat a black olive until I was 20, about the same time I had hummus, a rather repulsive looking mass on the side of my plate at Korey's Mediterranean restaurant. At that time, Greek food was, well, all Greek to me...and I had no idea what to order, let alone, what it was. My love affair with hummus started that day, and as our children grew old enough to eat "real food" it was always comment on, with the sad exception of Asher, who is more particular with taste buds, that "your kids will eat anything" Our boys love hummus, Emmet will eat it with crackers or bread or baby carrots, so will Fra, but he prefers pretzel sticks. Today I offered Paddy some on a saltine. It went over quite well. Although, it must be admitted, he loves fish sticks, too.