I’d promised myself Sam’s Good Stuff would remain fun. I said it would never muddy itself with the turmoils of our times. I believed I’d never get political. But perhaps it’s the fury of the culture wars, or the din of howling factions, or the raging pleas for emergent causes, that I can’t help but feel that I too must be heard.
Loving the super-fluidity of promoting a breakfast dish to afternoon snack where it looks startling well placed.