Bitchier Vegetarian Girlfriend (Bitchy Vegetarian Girlfriend)

It’s a long story, one that isn’t interesting even to me (and no, it’s not due to Celiac or Crohn’s or anything like that) but starting in July, I’m trying out a new way of eating.  I’m going gluten-free and mightily reducing things like dairy and refined sugars.  Basically, giving up everything that I love and take comfort in.

Shopping for g-f foods is pretty easy at my neighborhood market; most items are labeled on the packages and on the shelves, there are even separate sections in the baking, frozen, and pre-packaged areas.  That kind of thoughtfulness makes it easy to pick items at will, but it also makes it easy to see the price disparities. The naysayer in me audibly bemoaned, “Great, now I’ll be spending three times as much on foods that I’ll enjoy half as much.”

Looking at g-f recipes online is pretty bad, too.  In fact, sometimes it’s downright depressing. Especially in regards to baked goods – everything looks like it came out of one end or the other of a cat.  I’m sure that once I find a few things I enjoy,  I’ll be far less grumpy about it.  in fact, I tried some ginger snaps last night that were pretty good.  The ginger was burny and tangy, as I like it, and there was only a hint of a weird aftertaste.  The obvious answer there – just don’t stop eating ‘em!
If I didn’t care so much about food, this maybe wouldn’t be so hard of a switch. But the thing is, I’m an emotional eater.  I know some people are kind of sustenance-eaters, taking in what they need and not really thinking much about it.  Bowl of cereal, burger from McDonalds, Lean Cuisine, whatever.   But nope, I’m not that.   I find that food sates more than just hunger, it’s an all-over panacea.

When I was a kid, groceries were scarce and there was rarely food that I enjoyed in the house.  Mostly I remember jars upon jars of green tomato relish, Li’l Sizzlers sausages, frozen pizza, and liver & onions.  I taught myself to cook when I was probably a bit too young to be fiddlin’ with stoveknobs because I was tired of cereal and nobody else was cookin’.  Back then I rocked the Rice-A-Roni and Kraft Mac and Cheese.  I’m better now.

Cooking calms me. It’s meditative. There is also a bit of security tied into that – having a pantry stocked with ingredients is something I never take for granted. Giving up gluten means just a bit more than not having saltines with my tomato soup – it’s trying to find replacements for all those things that have brought comfort over the years.

It means no longer spending hours working on the best damn macaroni and cheese recipe ever – because, have you tried gluten-free pasta?  It’s unacceptable for baking.  It means no more impulse waffles – yeasted waffle dough needs to rise overnight and I’m sorry,  buckwheat flour does not an acceptable Belgian make.  It means no more peanut butter toast.

Let me repeat: No. More. Peanut butter. Toast.

The horror!