I think my house might have been the weird one 
:o
We had warmed-through whole plum tinned tomatoes as a vegetable side. I loved them. Still do love them. The taste, the texture, everything.
My mum used to buy these "perfect pasta" stock cubes from Knorr and cook pasta in them, because she said it made it taste better. I couldn't eat plain pasta like other people served for years.
A college friend was one day horrified when we were frying sausages for lunch, one fell on the floor (which he later described as - no offence Bertie, but disgusting with dirt, animal hair, rodents running around - we had cats, and guinea pigs, in cages, not running around) and I picked it up and cheerfully plopped it back in the pan saying "The heat will kill any germs"
I don't think my friend was bothered by the dirty floor until food fell on it and I planned to eat it anyway. But it was an interesting perspective for me. I now look back and realise our house was pretty dirty growing up. My mum struggled with chronic fatigue and never made my sister or I do anything and there wasn't anyone else.
I also remember the time we were having these weekly post NCT meet ups at everyone's house. I was a very young mum. My house was small and cramped and I felt anxious about it so I never offered to host until I did one day, I prepared so carefully for it, I found some scones on clearance and bought real butter and jam to have with them. We had to postpone because DS was ill or something so I told my NCT friend I'd pop the scones in the freezer for next time. I still remember her fixed smile as she said politely "That sounds lovely." I realised too late that most people would not consider shop-bought scones to be a special and rare treat and also that it was not compulsory to save the exact same treat that had been planned the next time. If I'd had to postpone a meeting with my mum and sister, that's exactly what we would have done - so I just assumed that was the normal way to do things.
DH's family are also terrifying in their food hygiene standards. It took me ages to convince DH out of the idea that leftovers go in the microwave. Not to be reheated, but to be stored until you want to reheat them. He's intelligent enough to understand the concept that bacteria multiply more slowly at fridge temperature, but somehow the practice of keeping food in a microwave (which MIL believes to be some kind of magical food-preserving portal because of the thick "insulated" walls) was so normal to him that he couldn't get himself out of the habit of it. I think it probably was to protect food that was too warm to go directly into an old fashioned fridge from the dogs, and then probably MIL never saw the point of transferring it to the fridge later. But it was grim.