Let’s get straight. I hate describing myself as “gluten free”. It makes it sounds like a lifestyle choice I’ve willingly made, rather than a means to avoid playing body fluid roulette with every meal.
It’s true, I feel much better now that I’ve cut it out, but boy is it miserable. Here are the eight absolute worst things about having to avoid gluten in everyday life.
Bread REALLY SUCKS. It tastes weird and has the structural integrity of the Brexit negotiations. I’d probably kill a man for a decent crusty loaf.
Hello darkness my old friend.
It’s hella expensive
Like I get it’s dearer to make it and the demand for it is lower, but I still hiss pantomime-style when I pick anything up.
You get to play “hipster or death?” with people when you order food
I’ve seen The Look. The one people give you when they’re trying to work out if you have an allergy or if you’re just pretentious. Particularly if it’s somewhere that doesn’t have a dedicated menu and it becomes a team effort to work out what’s edible.
I’ve find myself frequently dropping hints that I’m intolerant during these times, which is daft because it shouldn’t make a difference, but my embarrassment is strong.
There’s gluten in more stuff than you think
I thought okay, bread, pasta, pizza, cakes. Miserable, but seems easy enough. Then I accidentally ate a stir fry sauce with “barley malt extract” in it and sat on the couch feeling like death.
Turns out it pops up in the most unexpected places. “Malt vinegar” seems obvious in hindsight, I suppose. Maltesers were unexpected. McCains oven chips? COME ON.
Office snack days get a lot less fun
At my old job, birthdays meant bringing a cake in. Leftover sandwiches from a board meeting meant two lunches. Unfortunately food in the office is now a spectator sport for me.
NOT ANY MORE.
You better hope you don’t get hungry when you’re out
If you’re on the way somewhere and you want something to eat on the train you better make sure you have time to search so you don’t end up with a miserable Pret salad.
Feeling like a diva
I dunno if people who are vegetarian or allergic to peanuts ever feel like this but when I’m round at someone else’s house I cringe myself inside out when the topic of food comes up. I will sustain myself on coffee and fruit, PLEASE don’t offer to make me something.
Accidental torture from your nearest and dearest
The number of times I’ve been offered a slice of pizza or a bit of cake by one of my friends only to watch their faces collapse halfway through when they realise what they’re doing to me…I forgive you all, but you’re killing me.
Please send recommendations for good bread, restaurants in central Scotland and possibly a cure. TA.