Ruben, it is time to dip into that great untapped reservoir of gastronomic testosterone. What you describe above is behaviour befitting Robin, not Batman. My dear friend, no man belongs in green tights, nor does it befit any man to travel with baggies for food abduction. I think it is time for an intervention.
Brother, you must come visit. Both you and your bride must come to the farm. Breakfast is bacon and eggs (bacon from our hogs and eggs from our hens) with a side glass of chilled milk from the cow (running somewhere between 5-6% milkfat in the summer, slightly less now). There are few cans of anything involved in meal preparation, as Elizabeth cooks from scratch for most everything. Spaghetti sauce for lunch begins with tomatoes grown in the garden, then hamburger from Sweet Pea (our recently deceased Shorthorn cow with murder in her eyes and heart - farmers always get the last laugh), then fresh vegetables and herbs (some of those home grown as well), then simmering of it all together until it unites in glorious deliciousness. Add pasta and serve.
Dinner will be a portion of Tank, a gentle Dexter steer who has just a couple of weeks ago gone to the Great Pasture in the Sky (we sent him to the butcher a little over two weeks ago, he was then hung for 14 days and cut up just a few days ago and set to freeze). Steak on the grill (we would grill even in a foot of snow) and baked potatoes (served with home made butter, sour cream, and bacon bits) along with sauteed veggies, a little olive oil and a little garlic, salt and parsley. This day's meals can be yours and Heidi's simply for the price of gas and the ability to put up with large amounts of people of all sizes. Yum.
Voila - your first step into culinary normalcy. I'm dead serious - PM me for a date. I've never seen a case so serious as yours. You're welcome to stay a while if you can handle it, but these first steps must be taken immediately if there is to be any hope.