Glad to see I’m not the only one who was made to sit over my cold, fatty, gristly meat until I ate it. Only I didn't eat it. I just went on refusing. There was nothing they could do. I won. This was in the 1940s, and because nobody had much food then I normally loved any sort of food, even school dinners. The same teacher who tried to make me eat the meat expressed alarm about the large quantity of prunes and custard I managed to eat, constantly going back for more like Oliver Twist.
This was a private girls’ junior school, and lunch was supervised by the teachers. We didn’t have dinner ladies.
Before that I was at a very small infant school, about 40 pupils in all. We were taken by bus to a local baker’s shop where we took over an upstairs room for our lunch, which was presumably provided by the shop. The only food I remember was very brightly coloured jelly, which looked delicious but definitely was not.