Tag Archives: humor

Roses are red, gluten is blue (at least, that’s what it makes me, and probably you too)

Loyal readers will have noticed that I’ve been quieter than usual the last few weeks. There are a few reasons for that—some of which I’ll be talking about soon—but I do expect to get back to my twice-a-week schedule eventually.

In the meantime, it’s Valentine’s Week, and in case you’re worrying I don’t love you, I thought I’d reassure you with a poem. Then—because you deserve it, and “less is more” is a lie—I decided to reassure you with a bunch of poems.

This is a gift that keeps on giving, because it means this year you don’t have to confine yourself to blowing a kiss (air kisses are guaranteed gluten-free, even if hubby’s been cheating on you with cookies) or making one of those heart-shaped chocolatey things everyone’s been posting about since January. You can do your boo one better and make your card gluten-free, too!

Jot one of these puppies down in a lopsided heart for guaranteed romance:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
If I could eat gluten, I’d share it with you.

or

Roses are red, violets are blue,
I quit eating bread, but I’ll never quit you.

Or if you, like me, will instead be observing SAD (Singles Awareness Day), or if your taste in chocolate tends more to the bittersweet, I’ve still got you covered. Try this:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
I’d rather get glutened than make out with you.

or

Roses are red, violets are blue,
I’d go on a date, but I’m sick with the sprue.

violets are blue

. . . violets are blue . . .
Photo © M | Flickr

Then, for the descriptivist, there’s:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
Quinoa is white, and sorghum is too.

And, for dear old gluten:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
You hate my guts, and they sure hate you.

Normal small intestines mucosa

. . . and normal small intestine mucosa are pinkish-purple.
Photo © Ed Uthman | Flickr

If you enjoyed, spread the love! It is almost Valentine’s Day, after all.

Share your own gluten-free riffs on the classic in the comments (bonus points for using any rhyme other than “you”—it’s tricky!), and have a happy SAD week.

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Gluten-Free Astrology: Capricorn (born December 22 – January 19) AND Aquarius (born January 20 – February 18)

Since I missed posting my usual personality analysis, predictions, and advice for gluten-free eaters born under the sign of Capricorn back in December, I’m mixing it up this time with a special double edition of Gluten-Free Astrology.

I’ll cover all the need-to-know facts about Capricorn and Aquarius, then we’ll play a little game with celebrities. Got a goat or a water-bearer in your life, or are you one yourself? Then read on!

The GF Capricorn

Capricorn’s symbol is the goat, and there’s a good reason for that. GF Capricorns are surefooted, able to pick their way over obstacles to reach whatever peak they’ve set their sights on. Like Virgos, Capricorns are organized creatures who set goals, make plans, and proceed steadily toward them.

goat silhouette standing on mountain

Calmly looking back at the path you’ve trod.
Photo © BR0WSER | Flickr

But Capricorns’ ambitions are often higher than Virgos’, and always less negotiable. While a GF Virgo might set up a safe, tidy, 95% gluten-free kitchen and allow his/her family to keep eating Triscuits, the GF Capricorn—uncomfortable with ambiguity—won’t rest until every last crumb has left the building.

You’re diligentpractical, and as stubborn as a Taurus, which combine with your rigid sense of organization and clarity of thought to make you, as I’ve said before, basically the best sign ever at being gluten-free.

Self-sufficient, you may volunteer to handle the food at professional and social events, but after painstaking preparations you have trouble letting go and enjoying the secure gluten-free party you’ve planned. Others may see you as distant or even controlling, especially when you’re slapping their hands away from your tortilla chips. Naturally a loner type, Capricorns risk becoming even more isolated once diagnosed with a gluten-related disorder—too bad, because inside, you honestly long to be loved. Spend this month working toward your goals, for sure, but don’t be afraid to make companionship a priority, too.

Black and white goat behind fence

Don’t get trapped by your gluten-free diet and health goals.
Photo © Rachel Groves | Flickr

The GF Aquarius

Like our friends, the GF Capricorns, you can be obstinate when you’re sure you’re right (and, since Aquarius is the Ravenclaw of the astrology world, you’re right annoyingly often). Also like Capricorns, Aquarius can come off as distant—in your case, because you really do prize independence over all else. For the most part, the similarity ends there.

Uranus

Your ruling planet, Uranus, represents the unconventional and unexpected—and it’s really pretty too, right?
Photo © wstera2 | Flickr

Where Capricorn is steady, Aquarius is zany, constantly changing directions and cooking up wild schemes. You’ve probably had so many gluten-free business ideas, you’ve lost count. Maybe you’ve even tried to make some a reality: tossing ideas around and getting to know potential clients is lots of fun. Tying yourself down longterm? Not so much.

The GF Aquarius is outgoing, a traveler, and willing to experience just about anything other than boredom. You love learning and sharing ideas and information: your sign, the water bearer, represents that passion. If anyone can manage to enjoy going gluten-free, it’s you: learning all that new lingo and science, mastering the baking learning curve, and enlightening everyone you know about what exactly is a “villus”? A fascinating challenge!

You trade tips with every gluten-free person you meet, put your rapier wit to work when someone criticizes our lifestyle, and try all the new restaurants. (You might get glutened more often than average, but for you, that’s part of the journey. Yeah, you’re a little odd.)  There’s a decent chance you’re a gluten-free blogger—and, if so, you’re very good at it, besides a slight tendency to overestimate your own expertise.

A little more trivia

When it comes to health, GF Capricorns suffer from stiff joints, rheumatism, and orthopedic problems. GF Aquarius struggles with arterial troubles, as well as shin and ankle sprains and breaks. I probably don’t need to tell you these are all symptoms of gluten-related disorders.

Now, time for a pop (culture) quiz. Here are a few well-known faces, some Capricorn, some Aquarius, some gluten-free, some not. Take a stab at guessing who’s who, then scroll down for the answers.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll

James Joyce

James Joyce

Oprah Winfrey

Oprah Winfrey

Drew Brees

Drew Brees

Ellen DeGeneres

Ellen DeGeneres

How’d you do?

  • Martin Luther King, Jr.: Capricorn (Jan. 15), not GF (he preferred southern food such as fried chicken and pecan pie—decidedly glutenous, but I’m sure you could find GF versions to make in his honor today)
  • Lewis Carroll (originally “Charles Lutwidge Dodgson”): Aquarius (Jan. 27), not GF (according to one biographer, he subsisted primarily on fruit, dry biscuits, and—in his younger, “greedier” days—cakes)
  • James Joyce: Aquarius (Feb. 2), not GF (suffered from mysterious stomach pains, often attributed retrospectively to syphilis, but who’s to say it wasn’t really that other “great imitator,” celiac disease?)
  • Oprah: Aquarius (Jan. 29), briefly GF (in 2008 she tried a 21-day “cleanse”; despite enjoying gluten-free waffles throughout, by the end she was “sure . . . happy to return to gluten”)
  • Drew Brees: Capricorn (Jan. 15), GF (and dairy- and nut-allergic too; if press releases can be believed, he loves So Delicious)
  • Ellen DeGeneres: Aquarius (Jan. 26), not GF (and rather annoyingly put down Gluten-Free Singles on her show in November)

Hope no one minded the double feature! (I’d never get away with it for Leo.) Next month is Pisces, the last in the rotation—hope you’re looking forward to it as much as I am.

Capricorns and Aquariuses (Aquarii?), duke it out in the comments, and if you liked the post, please share.

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). Celeb photos from Wikimedia Commons.

See also: AriesTaurusGeminiCancerLeoVirgoLibra, Scorpio, Sagittarius

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Dear gluten (it’s me again),

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Almost a year. And I’ve been thinking. That letter I wrote . . . maybe it was a bit hasty. Oh, I’m not taking anything back. I still hate you. I walk by cafes where you sit and avert my eyes; I see you on the subway and change cars; I tell my friends I won’t show if you do.

In truth, all that avoiding you has taken a toll on my social life. But mostly, things have been better. I smile wider, I laugh louder, and I can’t recall the last time I pulled a Myrtle. But I can’t say I’ve been quite as happy as I’d hoped. I thought you were the only thing holding me back—now I fear there’s more.

Still, everyone says I’m better off: my friends, my sister (once your pal, she too has given you up), and even my doctors, not that my love life is any of their business. Certainly, my parents have been happy enough to see you replaced at family gatherings.

Replaced? Yes, I admit, there have been a few new sweethearts. The Whipped Pastry brownies, the King Arthur Flour vanilla cakes, the flourless peanut butter cookies, the Everybody Eats baguettes, the Food Should Taste Good and PopChips . . . It’s been a whirlwind. You may call it promiscuous, but I prefer “keeping busy.” And, by the way: not to brag, but they’ve been good. Almost as good as . . .

Do you know, gluten, that you cause me physical pain to this day? I dropped all that tissue transglutaminase on your doorstep, but instead of a whole new life I found a donut-hole in my heart. You haunt me; you obsess me.

Kindly do not misunderstand. I don’t want you back (several systems in my body wouldn’t stand for it). But here we are, in the thick of the holiday season, and you’re cropping up at all the parties, grinning in that rye old way of yours, trying to get a rise out of me. I hope this isn’t too bold—I can be honest with you, right? We’ve known each other a long time—but just the smell of you makes my mouth water.

I started 2013 with no resolutions, dear gluten, but by the end of January, you’d given me one: stay away—far away—from you. And I’ve been good. I’ve stuck to my guns. It hasn’t even been so hard: it’s in my DNA to hate you.

Still, you and I both know your very purpose is to form bonds, and Stockholmy though it may be, I feel your pull. I’ve scanned too many appealing pictures of you online, eyed you regretfully from across too many crowded rooms. I think I’ve gotten away, then snap! I’m back in the cereal aisle making doe eyes at the Cheerios. Something about you is . . . elastic.

So I wonder if, maybe, I should let you back in. Just a little. A taste. How’s this: At one of those parties, we can both get a little tipsy, and one thing can lead to another, and then for many days to come I can thoroughly regret it as my friends berate me for my lack of will, and I lie in bed, clutch my stomach, and cry for what shall never be. You’re happy, I’m unhappy, and we both get a nice little reminder of my 2014 resolution. Good, right?

I guess what I’m asking is, gluten, what are you doing New Year’s Eve? Because I’ve got a sloppy midnight kiss with your name all over it. All you have to do is show up dressed as a cake pop.

Yours wafflingly,
Molly

P.S. Gotcha, sucker.

Dear reader: If you’re looking for more that’s-kinda-weirdness about love and gluten, try this song, about 48 seconds in. And if you liked my letter, please share. You, I truly do ❤.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Recipe for a Simple Weeknight Meal (or, More Likely, Disaster)

There’s nothing like a simple weeknight meal. Now, I don’t mean peanut butter (or sunbutter) straight out of the jar with a handful of potato chips, or peanut butter spread onto gluten-free bread with potato chips on the side, or even leftovers.

tired girl on kitchen floor with coffee maker

This girl should’ve made coffee before starting on her simple meal.
Photo © Evil Erin | Flickr

I’m talking about those gorgeous complete meals that come together in such a snap you feel like you must have cheated to get there. Everyone’s happy, no one’s hungry, and you have time left in the evening to, say, write a blog post.

I’m not the only one who loves these meals. Cookbooks are devoted to them; moms and dads sing their praises; and especially after Thanksgiving, I bet many of you in the US plan to fall back on them for a while.

But, although I believe these perfect meals exist, the formula eludes me. My “quick” meal ideas usually turn into inefficient, lengthy, messy, multiple-pot culinary odysseys. They taste good, but they take forever.

Since I got positive feedback the last time I shared a recipe, I thought I’d share this one with you, too. Your suggestions and criticisms are, as always, welcome. Maybe, with your help, I’ll manage to complete a meal in 30 minutes…someday.


A Simple Weeknight Meal

Yields: 1 dinner, with leftovers (if you weren’t so hungry by the time you finished that you ate it all), and 1 big mess

Prep time: 30 minutes to 4 hours, not counting time spent gathering inspiration on Pinterest (this section of recipes is always BS anyway)

Cook time: varies by recipe and other variables (including but not limited to evenness of pan heating, stove and oven hot spots, vegetable sizes, and altitude of your house), whose effects recipes rarely address and always underestimate

Ingredients

1 to 3 exhausted but ambitious cooks (see Notes)
1 recipe you’ve never tried before and plan to heavily adapt
1 to 2 additional recipes from which you’d like to draw inspiration (optional but highly recommended)
1 or more dietary restriction (again, optional but recommended—see Notes)
Optional garnishes: poor knife skills, inadequately stocked kitchen, multiple other things you intended to achieve that evening, and a low stress threshold

If this is you at the thought of cooking something, you're probably ready. Photo © Brittney Bush Bollay | Flickr

If this is you at the thought of cooking something, you’re probably ready.
Photo © Brittney Bush Bollay | Flickr

Directions

  1. Prep half of the ingredients and leave the rest to peel, chop, slice, etc., later, when you’ll be too distracted trying to stop the onions on the stove from burning to do either bit properly.
  2. Forget to preheat the oven, bring water to boil, or press the tofu until much, much later.
  3. Realize that you’re missing one or more ingredients. Don’t panic; instead, begin a lengthy debate over what in your cupboards might work as a substitute, with recourse to Google as necessary. If consensus cannot be reached, draw straws to decide who will “run out” to the store for the ingredient. Or give up and eat popcorn, since it’s not like you’ve done much yet anyway.
  4. Assuming you’re forging on with the meal, take a few minutes to select some appropriate musical accompaniment.
  5. Next you’ll want to at least scrape the crud off of the cast-iron skillet that has been sitting on the stove since your last simple weeknight meal, unless the flavor profile was similar, in which case forget it.
  6. Start those onions sizzling while you check your bookmarks and open tabs for a side dish idea. Should one appear, start prepping ingredients for that, ideally before finishing what remains for the original recipe.
  7. Text the person who has gone off to the store to request a few more missing ingredients for the new recipe.
  8. Start adding water to the onions because they are seriously going to catch on fire and you can’t believe you haven’t finished mincing the garlic yet.
  9. Accept an incoming phone call and let the onions “brown” a little longer while you chat and attempt to cut up vegetables with the phone wedged against your shoulder.
  10. Jump guiltily when you hear your fellow cook at the door and tell the person on the other end that you’re right in the middle of cooking and really can’t talk. Pretend you only just picked up.
  11. If you are trying to prepare a gluten-free (or allergy-free, or vegan, or what-have-you) meal, inspect the package labels of the new ingredients and ask the buyer if he/she is sure this brand is safe. Regardless of the response, check the manufacturer’s website yourself (with sneakiness to taste).
  12. Fend off any lingering impulse to just eat popcorn. Although you may not have accomplished much, per se, you’re in too far to turn back now.
  13. Set your jaw in a grim line and turn your attention to prepping and cooking in earnest. Bicker as desired.
  14. Begin checking the clock and moaning about how late it has gotten and how this ALWAYS HAPPENS. Repeat until every shred of patience and good will has been used up.
  15. Let the assembled dish bake/reduce/thicken just as long as you can—invariably less than the specified time because you’ll be too starving to care about taste or texture. Throw some plates on the table and serve immediately. (Optional: waste several seconds deciding between plates and bowls.)
  16. Enjoy while you can! Soon enough, you’ll be doing it again. But better. (Optimism will keep in an airtight container indefinitely and is even better the next day.)

Notes

Adages bedarned, this method works best with more than one cook in the kitchen; two cooks can inspire each other to greater and more absurd heights of complexity, and having a partner will lend to each the sense of security that the total prep time will be halved. Three is most likely the upper limit, beyond which point differing tastes and colliding elbows create the danger that no meal will result at all. In a pinch, a single cook will do, particularly if said cook is a fan of Top Chef and/or plans to post about the meal on a blog.

A food processor is not recommended. Let’s not baby ourselves.

Speaking of which…I myself do not have children, and therefore cannot vouch for them as an ingredient in this recipe. However, if you do add them to the mix, I suggest including such optional steps as teaching younguns to chop carrots (after starting the onions, mind) and taking breaks to nag older ones to do their homework and/or set the table.

If you eat meat, you may find it more difficult to stretch out the preparation process quite as interminably as I do. If you find yourself taking less than an hour to put together your meals, I strongly recommend vegetarianism.

Does this sound more or less like your own recipe for a simple weeknight meal, or have you mastered the formula? Share your tips and suggestions for actual simple meals in the comments.

I shared this on Vegetarian Mamma‘s Gluten-Free Fridays.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,
Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: