All I could think, as I heard these words, was how this was going to seriously impact the life in my kitchen. The baking station is the heart of my home. Kneading bread while listening to Joni Mitchell is my therapy. My cookie jar runneth over.
I closed my eyes as the doctor spoke, but I had to open them again, because the visions I was having were too disturbing. Thin slices of country ham floated by on buttery angel biscuits while onion laden foccacia and homemade yeast raised doughnuts appeared from nowhere. I've never made those doughnuts, but they have been on my to do list for quite some time.
Oh, beloved wheat. What will I do without you? It was only a few short months ago when I placed a crown of wheat upon my head and went to the Halloween parade dressed as Ceres.
After work last night, I went online to research the things my new doctor and I discussed. Again, I was stunned. Dennis looked over my shoulders while I read lists of symptoms from site after site after site, both of us shocked that every physical difficulty I have experienced, for as long as we can remember, could be the result of gluten intolerance. Why had I never made this connection?
Good bye, scones. So long, soy sauce. Buttermilk biscuits, I see you in my mind's eye, gently holding a slice of homegrown heirloom tomato, all warm in your blanket of cream gravy, with a light sprinkle of black pepper and kosher salt. Visions of you have gotten me thought some difficult winter days. I'm going to miss you most of all.
Dennis is not sure how I will make it. I usually buy my flour at Sam's Club in 25 pound bags. I guess Dennis won't have to go shopping with me anymore. I only need him when I shop so that he can lift that awkward heavy bag.
If you are familiar with gluten-free baking, please contact me. I welcome any suggestions on recipes and products.
