Millions of Americans will sit down
tomorrow and pretend that every dish on the table is: cooked through (optimistically), technically food, and made with love,
when in reality at least three items will be: described as “interesting,” wrapped in foil that looks suspiciously like it came straight from a minivan, and transported in a Tupperware container from 1998. So once again, in the name of democracy and
questionable priorities, I’m