It’s been a while. This Bitchy Vegetarian Girlfriend has had quite a wild ride these past few weeks…
Back in July, I embarked a month-long gluten-free experiment. Even though I’d been hemming and hawing and wondering if there really was life after waffles, it was actually not that hard to do; I simply tripled my grocery bill and forgot that I knew what good pizza tasted like.
Then, on July 15th, I was in a car accident. Nothing terrible, but enough to take me outta commission for a couple of days. Mister Bitchy was bringing me back from some minor-minor eyelid surgery when our Zipcar was t-boned on the passenger side, my side, by some glib real estate saleslady type. I was texting a friend about some giant metal garden sculptures I saw on the side of the road--stuff that might have pleased The Bloggess--and all of a sudden BOOM! The side impact airbag went off.
It takes something like that to put things into perspective. Being forced to slow down because of an injury makes you stop and take notice of the things that are truly important, recognize the flotsam and jetsam you can leave by the wayside, and discover all the beautiful little things that go into making this a pretty damn cool world to be in. Little things, like macaroni and cheese pancakes.
Two days after The T-Bone Incident, Mister Bitchy and I found ourselves in Portland. We left Seattle by train at 9 a.m., sans breakfast, and by the time we pulled into PDX I was starving. Famished. I'd spent the previous night researching all the food trucks that had gluten-free offerings and the various gluten-free beers (all two of them) offered by local breweries, and I was bound and determined to prove to myself that gluten-free travel was easy and fun. But just in case, I had a secret stash of Lara Bars hidden in my backpack.
On the way to the hotel, we walked by a diner. It was raining, we were bedraggled, the mister had just stepped in a puddle, and we really shouldn’t have been out in public at all. But I couldn’t help it, starvation was imminent and I did not want to waste away into nothingness on the corner by the parking ramp over by the Federal Building. I looked in the diner’s window and saw people eating. I stopped and pointed, all pie-eyed with wonder and jealousy, and whispered, “Look, there are people eating in there. I wanna do that, too!”
The Original Dinerant is a magical wonderland with bright turquoise tables, a tiki mug vending machine, and all sorts of other niftiness, but the best thing was staring me right in the face - at the very top of the menu hovered the words “macaroni and cheese pancakes.”
“Screw this gluten-free noise, I’m having that!”
It proved to be the best of all worlds, topped with a bit of melted cheese and drizzled with cinnamon honey butter. The eye surgery, the accident, the damage to my shoulder, the sleepiness, the crankiness, the soggy socks … none of it mattered anymore. Everything I beheld was coated in glitter and radiating nutmeg-scented rainbows! I was 10 years younger and had x-ray vision! This was the world’s most perfectest food ever and I was gonna eat the shit out of it!
So that was the end of the gluten-free experiment. I still keep things gluten light, and I feel better for it, but I’m not going to give up peanut butter toast and the occasional pizza ever again.
No comments:
Post a Comment