Food does not play a big role in my life. Actually, let me correct that. Farm-to-table seasonal food does not play as big a role in my life as it does in my family's, who describe themselves as meat-eating, gluten-free vegans (don't ask).
I eat, but if I could take a pill or two every day to get all the nutrition I need, that would be awesome. It's not that I don't like eating or that I'm afraid I'm going to become fat if I eat too much. I just don't have the passion gene for food. And I don’t understand why some people are obsessed with making wilted kale salad.
That being said, this could be because I was recently diagnosed as gluten-intolerant. I get anemic if I eat too much gluten. And my face breaks out horribly. You have no idea how aggravating it is that everyone knows when I've cheated and eaten gluten by the pimples on my face.
Since my second word was "bread" (my first word was "no"), you can imagine how hard it has been to give up cinnamon toast. We've found one brand of gluten-free bread that is tolerable (okay, beyond tolerable), but it's still not the same as a crusty chunk of warm sourdough bread from Rise Bakery slathered with lightly salted butter and a dash of my brother's strawberry jam. I'm salivating as I write this.
But I make do. I can still have potatoes and my great indulgence has become maple bacon chips. And oven-baked fries. Although my mom is on a purple potato kick these days (seriously) and I only have one word to describe purple oven-baked fries: travesty.
I eat, but if I could take a pill or two every day to get all the nutrition I need, that would be awesome. It's not that I don't like eating or that I'm afraid I'm going to become fat if I eat too much. I just don't have the passion gene for food. And I don’t understand why some people are obsessed with making wilted kale salad.
That being said, this could be because I was recently diagnosed as gluten-intolerant. I get anemic if I eat too much gluten. And my face breaks out horribly. You have no idea how aggravating it is that everyone knows when I've cheated and eaten gluten by the pimples on my face.
Since my second word was "bread" (my first word was "no"), you can imagine how hard it has been to give up cinnamon toast. We've found one brand of gluten-free bread that is tolerable (okay, beyond tolerable), but it's still not the same as a crusty chunk of warm sourdough bread from Rise Bakery slathered with lightly salted butter and a dash of my brother's strawberry jam. I'm salivating as I write this.
But I make do. I can still have potatoes and my great indulgence has become maple bacon chips. And oven-baked fries. Although my mom is on a purple potato kick these days (seriously) and I only have one word to describe purple oven-baked fries: travesty.
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