After four years of various ailments and a solid year of medical tests, I found out that I had Celiac disease in September of 2009.
I had been prepared for many diagnoses – including cancer, lupus, and other terrible, sometimes terminal, illnesses – but not this.
I lived off of bread, loved pizza, and sought comfort in pasta. I hated fruit and vegetables. What on earth was I going to eat?
I also loved to eat out. Would I have to give up my love of food?
I have learned many things since that September day. I learned that I can still eat bread, pizza, and pasta, just not the kinds containing gluten.
Most interestingly, I have found a wide variety of reactions when I eat at restaurants. I have received every kind of welcome, from rude offers of lettuce salads (sorry, I’m not a rabbit), to an establishment that sent someone across the street to buy gluten-free bread for me (thanks Cora’s in Bayer’s Lake!).
I feel that writing about these experiences will help restaurants understand how to cook gluten-free, and most importantly, give hope to all Celiacs that gluten-free doesn’t mean famine.