I don’t normally broadcast my food feelings to the universe.
I’m not the type to stand on a kitchen chair and shout about produce.
But today?
Today I am a woman with something to say.
I love arugula.
There. It’s out.
The scandal. The bravery. The peppery truth of it all.
I hunt for it in grocery stores like it’s a limited-edition handbag.
I pile it on everything — salads, sandwiches, fish tacos, toast, that one leftover thing I probably shouldn’t admit to — because arugula doesn’t judge. Arugula just shows up, does the job, and brings a little drama to the plate.
Does it have vitamins?
Probably.
Does it make me feel like a better person?
Absolutely.
Is it a miracle food?
Listen… I’m not saying it is, but I’m also not not saying it.
What I do know is this:
Arugula is good. Good for you. Good for your soul. Good for those of us who need a vegetable with a personality.
This is my stand.
My leafy line in the sand.
My Sofagirl truth.
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