Bang Goes That Theory

From what I had seen of gluten-free baking up to today, it looked to me as if every recipe was going to be unimaginably complicated with long lists of expensive ingredients. In my mind, gluten-free baking seemed a mighty undertaking, only to be pursued when I felt completely ready to use every fancy kitchen gadget, and dirty every dish, I own.

So, of course, I started craving baked goods.

Cookies, cupcakes, cakes. Over the past week I have been unable to stop salivating at the thought of every last gluten-filled morsel. And the idea of trying to bake a homemade gluten-free version in my half-packed, torn up, mid-move house was just an immovable mountain.

Until today.

My mother (my gluten-free guru) forwarded me a cookie recipe from my cousin, Jessica. A recipe with three, simple, readily-available-in-my-ransacked-kitchen ingredients. A recipe that made warm, sugary cookies and filled my crazy house with a wonderful smell.

And on top of all that, peanut butter - my favorite.

I can see I'm going to have to continue to rethink and refocus myself around this gluten-free thing for a while. It's just going to take time to wrap my head around the fact that it doesn't mean I can never have anything tasty again (quite the contrary) and it doesn't mean that everything is harder (just no longer mindless).

In short - I need to quite my bellyaching about gluten this and gluten that and get on with life!

And make more cookies!

Fears

And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
-TS Eliot, The Waste Land

Part of this quote appeared last night on an episode of Bones and it got me thinking. (I know, right? Inspiration from TV? Forgive. But this will give you some insight into the wacky mental leaps I make during prime time TV.) It made me wonder – what do we truly fear? What do I fear?

I think it’s a harder question than we probably allow for. We think fear as an emotion, and certainly its source, is easy to determine. But I think that’s probably oversimplifying something that is actually very complicated.

I’m a notorious fraidy-cat. I don’t like amusement rides, flying, or heights. But I’m not afraid of the possibility of death through those things – which I’m sure is what a lot of people might assume. I’m afraid of pain (and my potential inability to handle it), and even moreso of disability. I fear being unable to walk on the beach with my family, or use my arms to hold my husband or use my eyes to watch my nephews grow or my mouth to experience and appreciate all the food there is to fill my tummy with. The human body to me seems a fragile thing and it is not lost on me how lucky I am to be whole and fully functioning. And I worry about losing that blessing.

I also fear loss. I love the people in my life with a strength of emotion that leaves me paralyzed at the thought of the loss of any one of them. I can bring myself to hysterical tears just with the thought (to be embarrassingly honest). I am the same way with my pets – it has been just a month since we lost Daly but I still dissolve into sorrow when I think of him the same as I did the day he didn’t wake up.

And I fear the exact intent behind the quote above. Obsolescence. Lack of impact. Passing out of this world without leaving either mark or memory. And really, who doesn’t fear that? Who doesn’t fear that tomorrow we might be gone and no one, not a single soul, would feel our absence?

How could that idea not be terrifying?

Life is tough. It can be beautiful and fun and deliciously complicated but it is tough. Hard on the heart. Who wants to think that we have gone through all that we have each gone through for nothing?

I am quite sure that doesn’t apply to most of us (we all have our parents, right?). But it is something to consider as you go through your life. What are you afraid of? How does it hinder or drive you? And what can you do to ensure those fears do not become realities?

Even if it springs from a TV show, I think, it’s still a pretty important train of thought. Something to consider. Our fears can drive us, if we aren’t careful. Do what you can to make sure that such is not the case for you.

Success. In a Sandwich.

Last night, I succeeded in making my gluten-free bread. There were a few minor mishaps (you’re probably supposed to actually add the yeast, you know, when the recipe says to add the yeast and not when you see it still on the counter and go ‘oh crap!’) and even a couple of phone calls to Mom (when it says flour the pans, which flour? I have 8 to choose from!). But when the house filled with the smell of warm, yeasty bread and I opened the oven to peek at those two golden loaves – I didn’t care about any of the trouble.

I had bread.

It helped me realize something. I now understand the crux of the gluten-free lifestyle. It isn’t the actual act of eating gluten-free (though that is an obvious part of it). It isn’t knowing your way around the specialty aisles and expensive food stores. It isn’t even knowing what is and isn’t gluten-free (Google is great for that).

It is actually far more simple than any of those far more obvious things. It’s just effort.

The great difficulty with the gluten-free lifestyle is that it isn’t easy. You can’t mindlessly pick whatever sounds tasty from any restaurant menu and then wolf it down (man do I miss that). You can’t just walk into any grocery store and grab the closest box of spaghetti and run home with it. You can’t even just pick any recipe you want out of any cookbook you want and follow the simple instructions.

Most of the recipes don’t have anything even close to simple instructions.

But if I can train myself to put forth the effort – to make gluten-free bread when I really want it, to learn the ins and outs of the gluten-free flours, then really, being gluten-free doesn’t seem like it will really be that bad. I like the bread I made. It’s slightly different, but not as much as I had expected. And when you put peanut butter and jelly on it, it isn’t different enough for me to care.

It’s just about rolling up my sleeves and making myself alternatives to the ‘glutenized’ versions of the foods I miss. It’s about putting in the effort.

I can see that I’m going to have to learn all sorts of things to make this lifestyle work for me. I’m going to have to learn what is and what is not gluten-free (and remember it when it matters). I’m going to have to learn that it really is okay to ask for a gluten-free menu or safe suggestions at a restaurant if I don’t know what I can order. I’m going to have to learn how to make bread without getting flour all over every surface in the kitchen and the cat (so says my husband).

But first and foremost, I’m going to have to learn how to motivate myself to put forth the effort it takes to do this right. To make steamy loaves of bread to slather with honey and stuff with yummy fillings and eat just to know that I can, indeed, eat bread.

What I've realized is, it's not about what I cannot have as part of a gluten-free lifestyle. It's about what I can DO.

I miss bread.

I know it doesn't look like much, just a tupperware container of flour. But it was hard won. (Do you SEE the amount of flour on the toaster?!?)

This evening I started the process of making my first loaves of gluten free bread. I only got so far as the flour mix, which actually led to my first opportunity to use the food processor I bought on super-sale earlier this year. The food processor bit went well; it wasn't until I put the different flours in a bowl and tried that ever-so-complicated trick of stirring, you know, with a spoon that I got it all over the counter, the toaster and myself.

I'm pretty sure there's flour on Olivia as well.

Seeing as it is already after 9:00, I now have a kitchen to clean and I wanted to go to bed early I am going to put off the rest of the baking until tomorrow. But I am excited. Thrilled. Drooling already.

I miss bread you see. I recently decided that going gluten free (following the example of several women already in my family), might help me clear up some nagging gastrointestinal issues that my doctor's suggestion was to 'live with'. And so far it's been okay. Except bread.

I have always loved bread. Rolls. Big crusty french loaves. Pastries. Bagels. Any and all forms of bread. Stuffed full of warm meat and a thin swipe of spicy mustard. Or cold cuts and an all-too-generous layer of rich mayo. Or just a touch warm with a small bit of butter and dripping with sweet honey.

Sigh.

I miss it. And even though I know that gluten free bread won't be the 'same', I don't care. A substitute will still be lovely.

So tonight I pulled out all of the flours that my dear husband brought me from the specialty food store and the food processor and a large bowl and mixed together the flour mix. I hope tomorrow to be able to pop out two full-grown loaves of warm bread and make a sandwich. I'm not the best in the kitchen but... I certainly hope I can figure this out.

I'll let you know what happens.

O Captain! My Captain!

I spent my past two mornings teaching a professional training session with one of the partner's from my office. I was very nervous before-hand, spent a lot of time preparing and then really enjoyed the actual teaching - answering questions, providing practical tools and hearing that the attendees felt they had actually received something of genuine value from what we said.

It got me thinking. Thinking about all of those professors, teachers, trainers that I've had over the years that really left an impression. Mr. Curl in 7th grade (I'm pretty sure I still have his English Grammar packets!), Mrs. Cooke in high school, Dr. Velie in college (who's graduate school recommendation letter sits framed on my desk and I imagine always will). After these two days, I have a new appreciation for how difficult it really must be to make that impression on someone. Much less more than one someone.

I would love to be able to do that. I like to teach people, to help people take things they don't understand and conquer them and use them to their own advantage. Today wasn't really a situation where I could make some sort of significant impression - a training about how to prepare for an audit just isn't going to be that profound. But it made me realize that I would love to be in a position that would give me that opportunity to really make a positive impact on someone.

It also made me realize that I should probably drop all of those teachers a thank you note. This stuff they do - it's harder than they make it look!