Life & Other Drugs

Bread: Can Live With It, Can’t Live Without It

March 12, 2017

My sister recently discovered that she has a suspected gluten intolerance, so, in a gesture of altruistic solidarity (and more realistically selfish self-protection), I have decided to (attempt to) go (at least partially) gluten-free.  And let me tell you, it is EVERY bit as hard as your classic soul-cycle enthusiast will claim.  The wonderful world of bread beckons at every corner–Bagel Gourmet has my heart on speed dial, and I just can’t seem to say no.

I went into this thinking I didn’t really eat a lot of gluten.  This was probably supported by the fact that I frankly didn’t understand what had gluten in it, or what gluten was, or, you know, basic food composition.  Granted my baseline knowledge of what contained gluten was lacking, but as my friend who has celiac likes to say, I was, unbeknownst to me, “being glutened!!”  Needless to say, it hadn’t dawned on me that granola, tabbouleh, and tortilla wraps have gluten—these are my staple foods, how would I survive?  (I know I’ll likely survive, but I sure as hell won’t be thriving.)

My phone search history has become a mass conglomerate of, “Does _____ have gluten?,” which frequently returns back a response of ‘maybe.’  I’m iffy on this concept of ‘may contain gluten.’  I.E. does “may contain” mean I can eat XYZ food?  Because I’ve been assuming I can. But if “may contain” means I can’t, then the world is both snatching a Rice Krispie treat out of my hand and offering me a condescending stare with a side of thinly veiled sarcasm a la this meme:

My ignorance coupled with frail willpower was an enormous recipe for disaster.  But once I had educated myself on what foods contain that little shit we call gluten, only a battle against my willpower remained. But the battle has seemed entirely uphill.

For fear of intense judgments of my character I won’t fully commit to any one side here but let’s just say in that marshmallow experiment, I’d probably take the first one.  My ‘friends’ also aren’t helping my efforts very much as they consistently offer me the remnants of their Blue Room muffins. I know you know I have a weak spot for lemon poppy seed, and I also know you know they have gluten. -_-.

But, I’ll rein in my projections and admit that nobody is forcing muffins down my throat.  I, of my own volition, am nomming on the buttery, glutteny, deliciousness that is a Blue Room muffin.  And, I’m doing so while consciously knowing I shouldn’t.  If  you are reading this, feel free to help me on this endeavor and I’ll (under great duress) give you all my muffins. :’-)

Image via, and via.

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