If your pickles don’t look like they were violently captured from a bog, what are you even doing?
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What’s for supper? Vol. 485: Rusty dipthongs and greasy ennui. And guacamole!
Happy Friday! One must imagine Simcha saying something poignant here, something amusing and a little bit weird, making a captivating opening for this week’s food post. Then she will say somet…