My mom was a really good cook. She would make us mouth-watering meals on a daily basis, and I was always excited when she called us to come and eat. But since I was growing up during the 80s, every now and then she would see a strange new recipe in the paper or in some weird cookbook and decide to make us things like "Chicken wings in cola" or "Tuna and olive pasta." We would collectively smile and eat quietly, trying not to hurt her feelings, but she could tell.
For some reason, the 70s and 80s were plagued by an endless stream of horrific recipes that no one should ever attempt to make, let alone consume. Every magazine, every cookbook, and every cooking show kept encouraging our moms to make weirder and weirder dishes, and we were the main victims of this strange trend.