The grain never falls far from the stem. And neither does food intolerance. And it should have surprised me that my sibling suffered from several food intolerances but it didn’t. And I was not unhappy about it. . . .
There are ships crossing the river Denial every few minutes. “All aboard.”
Then my husband experienced a health issue which manifested symptoms similar to gluten intolerance. The dietician suggested he go gluten free for a month. Not wanting to cook separate meals, we joined forces.
Imagine being on the moon and dining on MRE’s (Meals Ready to Eat) for a month. At the end of the month, we dined on a penne pasta with garlic cream sauce.
Ah, the mouth feel, the texture.
He survived, even thrived. I put on my life vest for the last gluten and dairy crossing of the river Denial—and a pair of stretchy pants.
“. . .man shall not live by bread alone. . .”.
I love making bread. I love kneading bread. I love eating bread.
Soft. Chewy. Crunchy.
Store bought gluten-free bread stales quickly unless frozen. Toast is good, but fresh is better. And we won’t mention the stretchy-pants inducing side effects. *Ahem.*
I tried a few recipes for GF bread online, but my current skills set could fill a thimble. My creations looked like modern art and tasted like modern art.
Don’t eat modern art.
Have you ever purchased a cookbook for one recipe?
Thank you to America’s Test Kitchen cookbook, “The How Can It Be Gluten Free Cookbook.”
Joy flowed through me with each turn of the page. It contained detailed explanations of where I went wrong. They have not listed the recipe on their website, so I will only give an overview here.
In order to mimic the rise of an artisan bread, in this case—Hearty Country Flax Bread, we needed to add protein from ground flax seed—and ground psyllium husk (the main ingredient for Metamucil). To get the desired browning, add non-fat powdered milk, which could be omitted for a dairy intolerance. So I omitted it.
And since it’s been ages since I’ve enjoyed bread of any kind—this was my endeavor.
Any dietician will tell you fiber is your friend. (I’ve covered it here before.)
Just don’t eat the whole loaf in one sitting, no matter how fabulous it tastes dipped in extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Or sprinkled with sea salt and pepper. Ignore the crunchy crust. Fight off the urge to savor the soft, chewy insides. Pretend it does not smell like an Italian bakery. Or that you taste that hint of sour tang from the yeast.
Or you’ll need to drink lots of water.
And I mean LOTS of water.
I shouldn’t push it. But I am. And toilet paper. And you know why.
Which leads me to this week’s special edition food-or-consequences music choice. Salt-N-Pepa with Push It. Take it away ladies.
Feel free to join me sometime—on the shores of the river Denial. I have a table permanently reserved. Over there, on the left bank, under those palm trees near the bar. It says “Reserved for Fannie Cranium.” You can’t miss it.
As for my husband, Richard, a colonoscopy cured what ailed him.
Remember what I said about “Happy Endings”? ‘Nuf said. 🙂