My mother - a proper, entirely home cooked Sunday dinner, always beginning with Yorkie puds, an occasional evening rabbit stew with homegrown tasty carrots. I've only once had rabbit stew since then and it was horrible. Sometimes, she would make a meat and potato pie. Years later, she would often make a corned beef hash, and always welcome, nowt to it, but I could never make one as good.
My father, he ended up on a diet. His staple was brown bread, beans, and apricot jam, and his 'I'll make my own'. He was never involved with any cooking.