I'm Sam Sifton, food editor of the New York Times, and my stand group is what, sifties, siftons?

Siftonaires? Siftonnage?

Sifters. The Sifters.

Welcome to the New York Times Popcast.

You are How You a journalist, but your tweets private of music news and criticism.

I'm your host John Cara Monica.

This ma'am, I wrote you what you still ain't calling. I left myself, my pager, and my home phone at the bottom.

I sent two letters back in autumn. You must have got them there probably was a problem at the post office or something

sometimes I scribble the dress is too sloppy when I shot them but anyways

what's been up man how, how's your daughter?

My girlfriend's pregnant too.

I'm about to be a father.

If I have a daughter, guess what I'm a caller?

I'm a name of Bonnie.

I read about your Uncle Ronnie too, I'm sorry.

I had a friend myself over some

if they didn't want them. I know you probably hear this every day, but I'm the

biggest man. I even got the underground shit that you did with scam. I got a room

full of your posters and your pictures man. I like

shit that you did with rockets too, so it's her bats. Anyways, I hope you get this man.

Hit me back. Just the chat. It's only yours, the biggest fan. This is a chat, all the yours, the biggest fan, is the stand.

This is a special Stan episode of the podcast.

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