My dear departed mother used to make what she called tuna casserole for the family when I was a kid. Usually every Friday because like the good Catholics that we were we didn't eat meat on Friday.
It consisted of Kraft Dinner (mac and cheese to you Americans) tuna and an additional ingredient: canned peas.
Why? I don't know. She didn't call it Tuna and Pea Casserole.
Me, I'd eat the KD and the tuna but I hated vegetables, especially peas, I'd spit the peas into my glass of milk while pretending to drink it. Clever, eh?
I hated canned peas.
Still do to this day. And I haven't had KD since my university days when I'd round out my nutritional requirements with fried bologna.
I won't even eat them in her memory. Sorry, Mom.
This picture is of French peas or pois.
In Quebec grocery stores they usually turn the labels French side out.
But they can't fool me.
No matter what language they use they're still in that damn can.
Head on over to the Inferno where Ziva never stops sharing everyone else's photos.