Blaaaaaaart! Raaaaaagah! Affff....

The title of this post is meant as a literal translation of my newly expanded vocabulary. Had an adventure in Thai cooking last Sunday, resulting in said ejaculatory statements accompanying a bout of hearty 2am vomiting. The next day I crapped my pjs while trying to get ready for An Important Meeting. But enough about me: how are you? Ha ha, ha ha...

Lessons I have learned from my episode:

• Do not get all Polish when it comes to using slimy pre-washed spinach in a plastic bag. Do not attempt to pick out the "bad" pieces or impatiently just dump a bunch into the cookpot thinking oh well, it'll just cook off. "It" will not.



• Food poisoning is very unpleasant. However, after it has passed from both ends, the system feels completely purged, not unlike the effects of long, elaborate or expensive "cleanses". Want to clear the toxins, dear? Eat bad spinach and watch the toxins fly!



• Want to spice up your relationship? Stagger out onto your driveway when your honey brings you generic Immodium and a gluten-free muffin. Have the following conversation:

He: I brought you this for when you feel better...my, you look good.

She: I crapped my pyjamas. (Sees him glancing down. Adds helpfully:) Not these ones.

He: I wish you didn't tell me that.

She: Honey, you've just brought me anti-diarrheal medicine. We're on a whole 'nother level now. Now how's about a kiss?

He: (After recoiling slightly, he reaches out and pats her head) You're nice.

I am nice! So nice...I think that's the extent of my newfound wisdom from my most recent bi-decadal visit from the Food Furies.

You may have noticed a reference to "gluten-free" muffin in above conversation. Yes, it's true. I have joined the swelling ranks of Difficult People to Feed at Dinner Parties. We are legion!

I know, I know. An exasperated sigh is appropriate here. Go ahead, let it out. I too was until very recently sceptical of all the self-important claims to dietary specialness our ilk proclaims.

Sure, sure, of course you are "lactose intolerant" (you probably just had some of Gretchen's Thai Spinach Delight one night and faulted the post-dinner cappucino, you silly cow); I'm delighted to hear you're now a Raw Vegan (self-righteous, are we?); and of course, the newest members to the food hypochondriac club are self-diagnosed celiacs who moan about the gluten in just everything!

Usually recognized by stricken expressions and eagerness to explain their condition, interrupted only by the occasional longing glance at your turkey sandwich. "Oh, I couldn't eat that," they solemnly claim (not that you've asked), "There's gliadin in the bread and probably traces of wheat flour on the deli meat. No, I shall have my plain little salad, no dressing. Commercial dressings have wheat protein added as thickener, you know."

It's likely you didn't know, and equally probable you didn't/don't care. But self-abnegation is so hard to keep to oneself.

Lordy lordy. I wish it weren't so. After dabbling in all forms of vegetarianism throughout the years, from almost-vegan (whoopdeedoo) to just pork-free (I mean, pigs are awfully smart), I embraced my omnivore nature two or three years ago and relaxed into complacency. I still get the occasional pang of guilt when I buy a fresh steak or order an occasional chop. Like much that ails society, these pangs are obliterated by instant pleasure, in this case afforded by a perfectly cooked steak, or how crispy pork fat is accentuated by braised apples. Honestly, I may think something like this animal lived a life of discomfort at best and torture at worst, and died brutally to end up on my plate...and it's yummy! if I think at all. We are monsters, aren't we?

But now, of course, I am on this gluten thing. Started with my partner (a sensible, no-fuss man if ever there was one) wondering if his chronic eczema may be linked with wheat or gluten; me listening to an interview of the cardiologist author of "Wheat Belly" on CBC Radio 1 (where all white middle-aged yuppie women's hysterical thinking begins) and gamely suggesting we experiment with cutting it out for a week. That was six weeks ago, following the last cold. At the time, I noted that the author said wheat intolerance could manifest itself in chronic inflammation and a weakened immune system, and anemia. Shoot, I don't like having those thing, so why not try it?

Both of us are reluctant converts. One of our favourite meals is a beet and squash ravioli dish made at a local restaurant that still kicks in an instant drool reaction. Both of us have long considered healthy whole grains a part of a balanced diet, love our occasional muffins et al, and are at best bemused by picky, self-diagnosed victims of food allergies and sensitivities. We thought we'd try it for a week or two and see no difference, and then celebrate our mutual insensitivity with a nice pasta dinner.

Alas, his eczema got better and he lost weight around the middle. I noticed a return of my former energy level. Both of us remarked on reduced appetites. I no longer got a mid-morning or mid-afternoon crash that had me usually reaching for a bowl of cereal or some toast, along with another coffee. These were all noted in spite of ourselves. And in spite of ourselves, we couldn't help noticing that it wasn't that hard to cut it out.

My partner has found it more challenging than me, as he was a faithful attendee at the local bar's Wednesday burger night, and being a popular guy, often is handed a beer at said event as a gesture of good will. This is increasingly uncomfortable for him, as the more you refrain from eating a particular food aggravant, the harder it gets to process. My own wussiness on this point makes it easy for me to be abstinent, as the last bout of intestinal cramping and gas from eating tempura reminded me. I have counseled him to wave away the offer of a beer with a cheerful "No thanks, makes me fart!" and eat his burger sans bun without drawing attention to it.

Here's some advice I can give you, food allergy/insensitivity brethren. Unless it's a matter of potential life and death, just shut up about your ailment. Most people will think you made it up to feel important. Yup, it's true. No one cares, and if they ask politely about it, give a short, polite answer back and change the subject unless they seem eager for more information.

Also, get really good at cooking and baking (most gluten-free baking sucks). Host dinner parties, or take people out for dinner. If you go to someone's house for a meal, do not look appalled if offered a dish which contains something you can't eat. Hopefully you've been gracious enough to offer to bring something or just brought it anyways, and you can munch on that if need be.

In short, it's like being religious or a non-drinker. People won't judge you on it if you just practise some discretion and don't force it on others.

With that, time for me to clamber out of bed and make some homemade banana bread. Bon appetit!

Gretchen "It's NOT in my head!" Rutte