Goodbye rye, farewell bakewell, ciao bao

It turns out I am celiac. And I find out at 42. 

I have spent a long time not feeling quite right. Fatigued, bloated. Many of the signs were there and I just wonder how far back they go. 

It’s bittersweet. 

A sweet chance to heal and get more energy. Letting go of the idea and the nagging feeling that I just couldn’t feel young again or exercise properly. Knowing that it’s not just a demanding time in a difficult context: it’s gluten intolerance. 

I am even looking forward to see how much better I feel. Perhaps my back pain will ease even.

And of course, the grief: first and foremost, as a Spanish, the bread. I can’t believe I won’t eat bread again, or pizza. Decent versions of that. And then the endless list of other things from baos to crumpets, to lasagna to gnocchi, spring rolls and rye bread. It’s devastating. 

But it’s all about bringing a positive attitude. I stopped eating animal products a decade ago and it was made easier (dare I say fun) by learning about new food and techniques. So I have stocked up on grains, gluten free oats, and coconut flour and see what things I can cook up with that. 

Forward!