Jun 05 2013
20 Comments
Breadcrumbs in the wilderness

A tale of two cakes

Recently I attended a party. You might imagine from the post’s title that it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, etc…but actually, it was a pretty darned good gluten-free time all around, heavy on the wisdom and light on the foolishness.

The party in question was in celebration of my sister’s graduation and, secondarily, my twenty-fourth birthday. At such occasions where just one gluten-free eater is present, said eater might count him or herself lucky to have a quarantined corner of gluten-free snacks, or to be allowed to bring his or her own food. At this occasion, though, the hosts—my parents—went all out creating an entirely gluten-free spread, complete with TWO cakes.

Cutting the Cakes

No, not one gluten-y graduation cake for Althea and a separate gluten-free birthday cake for me, but two gluten-free layer cakes made from King Arthur Flour gluten-free yellow cake mixes (and KAF cake enhancer). Since we didn’t do a taste test of one cake with the enhancer and one without, I don’t know how critical this ingredient was, but I can tell you that both cakes tasted and felt just like they should: like cake.

They were both vanilla, one with buttercream and M&Ms, and one with a cornstarch-based pudding filling and a dark chocolate ganache: a classic Boston Cream Pie gone oh-so-gluten-free. Just what I wanted! (My cake looks like it’s about to tip over in the photo, but I assure you that I cut the entire thing without the top sliding off—a feat that I undertook in grave doubt at my ability to achieve.)

We also tried the King Arthur Flour gluten-free cookie mix. Although we added lots and lots of chocolate chips, the consensus was these weren’t quite as impressive as the cakes. They were best right out of the oven, which is when I tried them, but I’ve been informed that as they cooled they became a bit crumbly and that they had an odd aftertaste. I’ve noticed an aftertaste in many gluten-free desserts I’ve tried and, after struggling to pinpoint its origin, I now blame the tapioca starch, which a gluten-free cookbook author I work with told me can have a metallic taste, depending on its source. Have you noticed a metallic aftertaste in your GF goodies? Do you blame the tapioca?

KAF Cookies

I started with dessert because it’s always the most important thing, but let’s pause for a moment to discuss the second most important thing: avoiding cross-contamination. My parents don’t have a gluten-free kitchen, but they did go to great lengths to make food that was safe for their invalid offspring:

  • They wiped down every surface and took all of the silverware out of the cutlery drawer and washed everything, tray included.
  • They bought new mixing and serving bowls, spoons, spatulas, knives and cutting boards, measuring cups, and more.
  • They used disposable foil cake pans and killed thousands of parchment-paper trees covering everything else (the cakes were served on the usual cake stands, but with a layer of parchment paper, just in case).
  • Everything on the buffet was gluten-free, from the appetizers to the main course to the desserts, and they asked guests not to bring food. This meant I could pick at the buffet like a normal person, rather than worrying about contaminated serving spoons or crumby hands.
  • They explained cross-contamination concerns to many of my family members who weren’t yet aware I had celiac, which was a load off my shoulders. Once in a while, believe it or not, I don’t want to talk about gluten.

My mom has been insisting that when I write this post, I be absolutely ruthless in laying bare all of the things they didn’t do right, but to be honest, I don’t have much to complain about. To appease her, though, here is the run-down:

  • Beer was served, but there’s not a high risk of cross-contamination with that, since it tends to go straight from bottle to gullet.
  • A couple of guests did bring food, but nothing that used gluten ingredients (though I still avoided it in case of cross-contamination).
  • We realized we’d forgotten to get new cooling racks when it came time to take out the cookies, but we made do by setting them on parchment paper over the racks (maybe this contributed to the cookies’ crumbliness).
  • Mom suggested I make a plate of food for myself in advance, just in case, so I’d feel extra comfortable, even though everything would be gluten-free. I didn’t, because I wanted to feel normal. But I probably would have felt even more comfortable if I’d taken her advice. Turns out, Mom does know best.
  • Mom feels guilty for having eaten Twizzlers after the party. But as much as I’ve never cared for Twizzlers myself and never shall now, I know what they mean to her and would never want to take them away from her.

All in all, the party planning gets an A from me.

Along with dessert, we had an array of intriguing gluten-free chips and crackers (Boulder Canyon hummus & sesame chips, Eat Your Vegetables sea salt chips, Wild Riceworks crisps, and tortilla chips), dips and cheese, and a beautiful spread of gluten-free salads, including one brown rice and wild rice salad which was, I think, the first wild rice–based salad I’ve ever really liked.

It was a tasty springtime spread full of great fruits & veggies, nuts, beans, and grains, and many of the guests were surprised to learn such a varied menu could be entirely gluten-free. Mom’s qualms aside, it was a fun, delicious, and—dare I say it—educational gluten-free party.

As for which cake was best? M&Ms are fine, but obviously it was my favorite, the Boston Cream.

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May 31 2013
11 Comments
On a serious note

Playing spoons

Are you a spoonie?

Photo © Holger Eileby | Flickr

Photo © Holger Eileby | Flickr

No, I didn’t mean Moonie. The word spoonie is a catchall term for people with chronic illnesses or disabilities. I first learned it from Rachel’s fantastic blog Do I Look Sick?, and then I started seeing it all over: in other blogs, Tumblrs, Twitter bios and hashtags, even tattoos.

It’s a catchy name, in my opinion, because it’s a bit silly (and therefore a more pleasant self-descriptor than, say, patient or sufferer—ugh) and because it brings together people who share similar concerns but risk never realizing it because of the differences between their particular conditions.

The term comes from “The Spoon Theory” by Christine Miserandino, Christine’s story of explaining to a friend how it feels to live with lupus. Since they were at a diner, Christine used spoons as a visual aid. She collected a pile of them and said that these were her spoons for the day. Everything she needed to do for the day, simple or complex, would require one or more spoons. She then talked her friend through her daily routine to demonstrate the choices and sacrifices involved in living with a limited amount of spoons. There’s a sweet end to the story—click the link to read it in full. (You can also play a demo to get the idea.)

The spoons, of course, are simply a metaphor for energy. Not necessarily a perfect one: After all, sometimes energy just seems to disappear for no reason, which spoons do not, unless they’re being collected in someone’s bedroom awaiting a dishwashing session, or being snuck out from under your nose in a game of Spoons.

Photo © tsmall | Flickr

Photo © Tom Small | Flickr

Still, the story spoke to me in a way that stories in this genre generally don’t. It perfectly captured how I feel when my friends want me to, e.g., stay out later than I planned: If I do it, I’m choosing to throw away my entire next day because I’ll be too tired to do anything. And if I’m too tired on a Sunday to do my errands and laundry and cook for the week, those things most likely won’t happen at all that week because I’ll be too tired after work to do them. Not to mention that my body does at least a little better with routine, and I hesitate to lose that edge by messing too much with my sleep cycle. To say all that is so much more whiny and defensive than simply, “I’m out of spoons.”

Of course, everyone has their own energy level, and many healthy people—particularly mature people—do think about how best to parse out their energy to avoid burnout. But I, with my lack of nutrient absorption and all that, have fewer spoons than a lot of my healthy 20-something friends do, and more to lose by using them unwisely.

Lately, despite careful GFD adherence, I seem to have even fewer spoons. Avoiding cross-contamination in a shared kitchen adds extra little steps to my routine, all of which take spoons. Gluten fear probably snags a few more spoons. Plus, giving up caffeine has been like dumping an entire cutlery drawer into the trash. (Upside: I’m sleeping more. Downside: All that sleep is really cutting into my writing time.)

Pretty, and probably super gluteny, wooden spoons © Alan Levine | Flickr

Pretty, and probably super gluteny, wooden spoons © Alan Levine | Flickr

Since learning that I have an actual disease with a real name, I’ve cut myself more slack when I don’t feel up to doing something, and my friends have, for the most part, borne it patiently—though it has been suggested that I use being sick as a crutch for laziness or antisociability. Probably in at least a few cases that’s true (and a tendency I need to work against), but overall it’s more that I see this as a time to be extra careful with my health. To use my energy well in hopes it gets me through this healing stage more quickly. To keep up with the things I most want and need to do now, and save some things for, say, six months from now. To be the best spoonie I can be.

Although I identify with the spoonie community (that’s a fun phrase to say out loud), I recognize I’m extra fortunate in that, with just diet changes and no medication, my energy should increase, eventually. Eventually, I should have more spoons. I’m also well aware that I have a whole lot more spoons than a whole lot of people, and that I’m very fortunate and privileged to have the ones I’ve got.

This is the last day of Celiac Awareness Month, and I started the month intending to be more aware, generally, not just celiac aware. Although I’ve had fewer blogging spoons available this month than I hoped (spent a few of them on giveaway-entering), I’m ending it on the same note, aware not just of celiac disease and gluten sensitivity but also the full spectrum of spooniedom. We’re not the same, but we’re similar. If you’re a spoonie, you’re welcome here. Use your spoons as you choose, and no, I won’t steal them from you while you’re focused on the other cards you’ve been dealt.

How do you feel about the word spoonie? 

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May 29 2013
10 Comments
Tough (self) love

Congrats, grad! And a “needs improvement” grade for me.

My little sister graduated this weekend. The same little sister who used to agreeably complete the activity books I made for her, who walked to school with me in elementary school and shared several of my high school teachers, is now a college graduate—cum laude—with a degree in neuroscience! She never would have made it there without my activity books.

The proud siblings!

The proud siblings! Nice of them to provide spotlights.

Seriously, though, my sister is right up there among the smartest people I know, and I’m glad she’ll be using her own brain to learn more about the most complex structure in the universe (even if she does have to dissect a few songbirds to do it…poor songbirds). She’s going to be doing research related to the brain–gut axis, for the next couple of years at least, which I think is awesome. Why study one brain when you can study two?

Not only did little sis graduate with honors, but she also picked up some very nice compliments from some of her teachers who we met over the course of the weekend. “One of my best students ever”; “Personal impact on my own life”—yep, those things were said. Go Althea!

While my sister came out top of her class this weekend, I failed the main test before me, which was to navigate the weekend’s catered meals in a way that left me feeling safe and unstressed. Although I did call in advance to ask what the meals would be like, I called while walking to the subway on my way to work, rather than sitting down somewhere quiet with a list of questions to ask. My reception was spotty, the background noise was probably annoying, and I was in a rush. First mistake.

In response to my question about whether gluten-free (and vegetarian) options would be available, she said they would, but that there was no special ticket for gluten-free meals (unlike for vegetarian). She said I’d just need to speak up at the event and they’d be able to accommodate me. That should have been my cue to ask more about just how they’d accommodate me, but instead I thanked her and hung up. Second mistake.

In fact, it was a buffet (in a tent outside in the drizzly cold weather—thankfully the graduation was indoors, apparently for the first time since ’86, before Althea’s birth or mine). Everything was listed as gluten-free except for the rolls, cornbread, and desserts. Still, I was concerned that people were reaching over the buffet to grab the bread (and possibly spilling crumbs into the cole slaw on the way), and that the utensils being used to serve the entrees were brushing up against the bread on people’s plates and perhaps picking up gluten that way.

When I expressed these concerns—falteringly, apologetically, well on my way to tears—the head chef personally brought me a meal from the back. Everyone was accommodating and polite, even in the mob scene that was the tent full of several hundred starving graduates and their families, but I have absolutely no idea whether the food I wound up eating was really safe.

Because I didn’t ask. In advance or at the tent, where I shook the head chef’s hand. I didn’t ask, “What are the ingredients in the marinade?” or “Were the vegetables prepped on clean cutting boards that have not also been used for bread?” or “Was the cornbread made at the same time and in the same place as other components of the meal?” or “Did everyone change gloves between handling the rolls and touching the potatoes?”

Although this is the kind of question to which I routinely subject my family and friends, when faced with strangers, I didn’t ask. The time to do it was in advance, when I could have decided I felt uncomfortable and packed food instead. But I didn’t. And then when I had a second chance, I still didn’t.

Here's the family in the food tent. Do I look stressed?

Here’s the whole family in the food tent. Do I look stressed?

My sister assured me the staff is good about cross-contamination concerns, but it’s hard to be good about cross-contamination when preparing food for a crowd in the thousands. There were packaged Udi’s cookies and bread at the desserts station, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that everything else was done correctly.

As much as I’d studied up on the right way to eat out (by which I mean reading many, many fantastic blog posts on the subject), when it came time to put it into practice, I choked—like a college student who pulls an all-nighter to cram, then shows up at the test and blanks, or sleeps through it entirely. Not only do I not feel confident I didn’t accidentally eat gluten, but I didn’t enjoy myself as much as I could have, had I been better prepared.

Next time—which will not be for a long time because I am once again, dear readers, committing myself to eating only what is made in my very own home until I’m better—I’ll go about this the right way. Mindful of how miserable I was when I did it the wrong way, I’ll ask the appropriate questions in advance, and opt for the meal tickets if and only if I feel assured they’ll pull out all the celiac stops. I’ll show up with more than a KIND bar in my pocket in case the situation seems different on the ground and I decide not to chance it. I’ll have a nice time, I’ll be able to focus on the real reason I’m there, and I’ll eat food that I’m sure won’t eat me back.

Next time, like my sister, I’ll ace it.

Check out these posts for more on eating out gluten-free: Amanda’s set of posts advising restaurant pros, Jess’s “When ‘Gluten-Free’ Does Not Mean ‘Free of Gluten,'” and “Top 10 Questions to Ask When Dining Out Gluten-Free” at Thriving With Celiac. 

For a happier sprue story, I’ll tell you all about the graduation party soon. Do you have any graduations to attend this season?

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May 21 2013
14 Comments
Gluten-Free Astrology

Gluten-Free Astrology: Gemini (born May 21 – June 20)

Today marks the start of ME ME ME ME ME ME—sorry, I mean Gemini. The temperature is rising, flowers are blooming, kiddies are graduating, asparagi are past their peak but still in season, and it’s time to direct our attention to the Gluten-Free Gemini. As it should be.

Gemini begins today, May 21st, and extends through June 20th. Let’s check out what the stars have in store for me and my fellow Geminis this month.

Photo © Joe Plocki | Flickr With "twins" rather than an animal as the sign's ruling symbol, Flickr search results for "Gemini" get a bit artsy...

Photo © Joe Plocki | Flickr
With twins as the sign’s ruling symbol, Flickr search results for “Gemini” get a bit artsy.

The Gluten-Free Gemini is ruled by Mercury, the messenger god who reigns over communication, travel, and cleverness. To get a sense of the GF Gemini, think Mercury, the element: rapidly shifting, rising then plummeting, erratic and unpredictable, like that red stuff in an old-fashioned thermometer during climate change. GF Geminis are versatile and, as a friend recently reminded me, capricious. They always have something—or several things—going on, because they pick up projects quickly and drop them just as suddenly. They’re the type of gluten-freer who heard “for life” and thought, “Is that even possible?”

In other words, as a GF Gemini, it’s absolutely shocking I’ve maintained this astrology project for even three posts running. GF Cancers, consider yourselves warned.

For us GF Geminis, this month will be a time—as usual—of varied, unfinished projects, new enthusiasms, and sudden burnouts. Perhaps you’ll actually attempt to set up that gluten-free speed-dating sesh, or become briefly immersed in the world of from-scratch GF baking. You’ll look into event spaces, reach out to some fellow GF community members, realize how much work an event like this would be, and drop it immediately. Or you’ll order twelve different kinds of flour from Amazon and perform frenzied Google searches trying to choose the best blend, then lose patience, throw caution to the wind, make up your own blend, and lose faith in the entire pursuit when your baked good falls flat. But you won’t stay discouraged for long! You move on fast, and you’re quick to laugh, even at your own shortcomings.

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GF Gemini rules over butterflies and vibrantly colored birds—flitting, dainty things that delight their onlookers but are internally rather cold, bored souls already eyeing that prettier flower over…there. Though the GF Gemini is talkative and forthcoming, this urge to communicate can sometimes turn into idle, superficial chatter or gossip. You aren’t mean, you just love a good story. This month, strive not to alienate your loved ones, who have accommodated your gluten-free lifestyle handsomely, by talking about them behind their backs or tuning them out while you brainstorm your next blog post.

Then again, if you do mess up, you’ll probably win everyone back over with your fantastic people skills (which we supposedly have—I keep waiting for mine to kick in). You know how to win people to a cause, and this month just might be the month you finally persuade your relatives (and friends, and random passerby on the street) to get themselves tested for celiac disease. You aren’t, after all, content to play the part of the patient on this gluten-free stage—you’ve got to play the doctor, nurse, and researcher, too! At least until you tire of it.

The body parts ruled by Gemini are the lungs and arms (get it? Twins?), and we g-free types sometimes have asthma and weak bones to deal with. Eat those calcium-rich green leafies to avoid breaking any arms this month when you get overexcited about trying the new bikeshare program in your city; and don’t diagnose yourself with any associated autoimmune disorders just because you have a cursory understanding of them from WebMD. Beware your tendency to skim and assume mastery having done so. (Remember you’re not the doctor.)

Though your cheerful demeanor helps you to hide it (unless you’re broadcasting it to the entire internet, like I do), you do have a brooding, anxious side. Try to remember it’s springtime out there, and there are lots of interesting things to focus on in this world—no need to worry too much about what’s next in your personal health adventure.

There are lots of interesting GF Geminis to follow, too. People with gluten issues are maybe more likely to be born in spring and summer, so there are lots of Geminis; and Geminis are so lively and compelling that of course they wind up celebrities. A winning combo!

392px-Novak_Djokovic_Hopman_Cup_2011_(cropped)

Novak Djokovic

 Novak Djokovic is a GF Gemini, and an awesome one at that (happy birthday to him tomorrow). He attributes his stepped-up tennis game to switching to a gluten-free diet, although recently his performance has been inconsistent. In his own words, he “lost the concentration”—sounds about right for a Gemini. Also Geminilike, he spends his leisure time founding restaurant chains then leaving the day-to-day operations up to other people, making cameos in music videos, and buying up entire year’s productions of donkey cheese (OK, that one’s not true).

Elisabeth Hasselbeck

Elisabeth Hasselbeck

 Elisabeth Hasselbeck is another biggie in GF Geminiland. Like the rest of us, she keeps herself busy: not content to appear on just one TV show, she’s flirted with Survivor, Good Morning America, and of course her own show The View, where she shows off her Gemini communication skills. Plus, she’s written two books about living and cooking gluten-free (though her knack for picking up choice tidbits from other people’s self-published books may or may not have gotten her into a spot of trouble there).

Marilyn Monroe

Marilyn Monroe

 Last but most certainly not least, I have to give a shout-out to Marilyn Monroe, who was a Gemini through and through and stumbled upon her own super-weird version of a gluten-free diet, to which she attributed her awesome figure in this old Pageant article. Every day, she claimed, she ate two raw eggs in warm milk, plain broiled meat, four or five raw carrots, and occasionally a hot fudge sundae. Bizarre, yes, gluteny, no.

As always, the “information,” such as it is, in this post has been largely ripped off from The Only Astrology Book You’ll Ever Need, by Joanna Martine Woolfolk, which is in fact the only astrology book you’ll ever need (need here being a relative term).

See also: Aries, Taurus

Don’t click away yet, GF Geminis! I know YouTube calls, but resist your flighty nature long enough to leave me a comment. What new projects do you have planned this month?

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