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 would call 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 she would decide to make us stuff like ‘Chicken wings in cola’ or “Tuna and olive pasta” and we would collectively smile and eat quietly, trying not to hurt her feelings, but she could tell. For some reason…