Think bread, and think of a thousand other products.
One of the first serious conversations with my present boyfriend focused on dental hygiene, i.e.
the need for him to brush his tooth post-meal so kissing wouldn't kill me.
I feel bad when the maid offers me part of her lunch and I don't know how to say, "Gluten makes my stomach explode" in Spanish.
I hate it when friends try to cook a gluten free meal, but I can't eat it because of cross contamination.
I remember laughing when my doctor first explained that, after being diagnosed with celiac disease, I'd have to avoid gluten for the rest of my life. " Not everyone gets to have a cool name like that stamped on their medical records.
Sure, part of that reaction was shock, but I blame the other half on the silly sounding terms that now reign my life. Just yesterday, my boyfriend, Nick, received his latest spelling lesson.Regular readers of my blog may remember my review of Foster Farms - also know as the day when I had 96 gluten free corn dogs stuffed in my dorm freezer, communal fridge, and even in the maid's mini-cooler in the upstairs laundry room.Months later, my fridge at home is still quite the corn dog treasure trove.Grabbing his packaged lunch from the caf, he pulled out his BBQ chicken wrap, flipped it over to the label, and nodded. This would kill you." Pre-celiac, my kitchen skills were pretty limited.I could microwave a mean baked potato, pack a lunch and heat up a chicken pattie..that was about it.And whenever someone wants to be educated about celiac disease, but doesn't define me by my condition, they've won my heart.