They are often stewed foods, sometimes steamed or boiled. They are foods defined by their colours first—in this context, the lack of colour, the overall sameness, somehow gets misread as a fault.
The bush pricked everyone’s fingers and provided handfuls of blush-red fruit for the price, if you were willing to pay it. Every summer I lived in that house I was glad to.
Anyone who’s lived long enough to learn to feed themselves likely has some kind of biographical dish.