I grew up in an underground cannabis bakery. During the ’70s, my family baked and delivered more than 10,000 marijuana brownies per month in San Francisco. My mom dealt brownies out of my stroller in the Castro district, with weekly stops at Harvey Milk’s campaign headquarters and the home of the singer Sylvester. Sticky Fingers Brownies began as party favors at the height of disco extravagance and then changed along with the city. Deliveries continued through the depths of the AIDS crisis and the dawn of medical marijuana.
By the time my mom closed her business in the late ’90s, cannabis was no longer considered a party drug. Today, several locales are allowing cannabis dispensaries to operate with modifications during COVID-19 closures.
Alia Volz 