Luke-warm, watery beef mince swimming in butter beans and two scoops of lumpy mashed potatoes come to mind though. And lumpy custard with jam sponge. The kindly school dinner ladies tried to keep us going with extra helpings of slimy semolina and prunes and other epicurean delights such as that, but we weren’t old enough to appreciate their good deeds. As did retching afterwards in that god awful bog on the corner of the building they tried to pass off as the boys’ lavatory.