The strangest things to me were meals where;
You were allowed to have a drink of any kind within one hour either side of it, never mind at the table.
There was bread available. White sliced bread was a specific, entirely separate meal.
There was salt, whether on the table or in the food or any flavour at all other than resentment and bitterness, really. Even unsmoked bacon was soaked overnight in milk to get the salt out and then poached under the grill for a short period to get luke warm.
Vegetables didn't come out of tins.
Soup that wasn't 'made nicer to take the salt out' by adding equal quantities of skimmed milk (not condensed, just normal soup from a tin - including Oxtail).
There was a starter or salad accompaniment. Salad was a meal in its own right, due to the presence of a quarter ounce of cheapest mild cheddar and a slice of wafer thin ham.
There was more than one tablespoon of meat. Or there was meat/cheese added to flavour something else that was incredibly bland.
There was a dessert/pudding/sweet at the end instead of once a month being able to have a single scoop of ice cream. Or a cheese course, as cheese and crackers was a special, entire dinner on Boxing Day. You even got a single pickled onion with that.
You could help yourself or could ask for seconds. Portions were strictly controlled at all times, right up to how much gravy you were permitted.
Food that needed to be cut with a knife. The scraps we were permitted had been shredded to make sure the portions could be controlled or were so small, they could be picked up on a fork and eaten in one go.
So, any catering habits that involved speaking at the table, relaxing, eating good food in the quantity you wanted, having a drink, or for anything remotely resembling pleasure and enjoyment in the eating or in the company were the strangest behaviours I'd ever witnessed.
It would be easy to assume this was due to poverty or because she was very thin and keen to stay thin. She always seemed to have the latest gadgets, new clothes or anything else she wanted, though. And she was morbidly obese. She did say that I was a faddy eater, though this was in part due to having almost daily stomach pains, nausea and suchlike. Turns out I shouldn't have been having gluten or dairy - it had apparently been advised at the hospital when I was a child but she'd dismissed it as nonsense.
I went a bit mad once I was out of there in terms of eating whatever I could, loads of fresh veg, salty things, spicy things, fish, rice - the fruit and veg aisles in the supermarkets or in ethnic shops were the most exciting things in the world for me. And I tasted butter, bacon, olives, olive oil, continental cheeses, artichokes, fresh lemon and lime, fish and a whole world of other foods for the first time as an adult. Seems that I wasn't actually as faddy an eater as she said - I just needed better food, food that didn't make me sick and food without the silent dread of having to sit there within range.