(Answering “What is your comfort food?”)
This tuna-pea-pasta casserole on english muffins thing my mom makes. We called it Shit on a Shingle, despite the fact that it bears little resemblance to what the US Army calls Shit on a Shingle. Actually my circumspect parents couldn't quite bring themselves to say "shit."
Once when I was deliriously sick, 104-degree fever & everything, and Ellie was desperate for something, anything that could make me feel a little better, she asked me what food I would most like in the world, and in the childlike state that men inevitably revert to in illness, I pathetically mumbled, "my mom's shit on a shingle." When Ellie had recovered from this request, she called my dad to get the recipe, which he dutifully retrieved from my mom; then he said, mildly, "Of course, in this house we call it Bleep on a Shingle."
Madeleine Robins
My mother had a similar dish which she refused to actually make for us, but spoke of very fondly as "SOS." Thus as a kid I always imagined it as creamed soap pads on rye toast. (I don't know why rye toast.)