Turkey Pho

I was somewhere in my education at UNC when my dear friend Stacey approached me and told me I had to, HAD TO try pho. We drove into the Vietnamese section of Denver (yes, non-Denverites, there is one) and marched into the pho restaurant Stacey had recommended. I fell in love, and gotten it several times since, until...

DUN DUN DAAAAAAAAH... CELIAC DISEASE!

The main ingredient in this delicious noodle soup is broth, and broth can be tricky. Depending on how it's made, barley can sneak in at every corner, and authentic pho restaurants (with the best pho) are run by authentic Vietnamese people, and the language barrier can sometimes make it difficult to explain your condition. Luckily, my mother got me a subscription to Cooking Light long ago, and I dug out an old issue that has plenty of ideas of what to do with your leftover turkey. (Turns out an 11-pound turkey for three people creates lots of leftover meat.) There it is, smack on page 250: turkey pho!

After a search around Tigard for star anise (thank you, Whole Foods), I was able to find everything in the recipe. Last night I enjoyed my first batch of homemade pho. Appropriately burning my mouth after just the right amount of sriacha being added.

My sister suggested I could market this newly activated domestic gene I've suddenly developed. Become a gluten-free, dairy-free Martha Stewart. I would love to give it a shot, but it seems there are a few people who already may have this market cornered. Delve into anything in the gluten-free girl's blog (link to the right) and you'll see there are so many amazing people who have paved the way for me to live normally.

I have never savored leftovers so much in my life. I hope this is a continuing trend.

Food

I've been living for a good 13 months gluten free now. It's still a surprise when I have a wonderful, savory meal without running to the restroom. Or taking a nap. I've learned this past year that food is actually meant to energize you, and not slow you down. Before The Diet, I much preferred performing onstage on an empty stomach. Now I can't go on without having had something good to eat - I'm learning to burn calories in a good way and then refuel myself later.

It sounds like such a "well, duh" thing to say, but I'm still overjoyed every day I have successfully used food to my advantage. I have been able to go long stretches of days without a stomachache, something I never thought was possible before.

Back when I was first adjusting to this new way of eating, I read an article in Living Without magazine that was talking about the best way to eat out frequently being gluten free. The first tip the author gave was to break your emotional attachment to food. The theory being, that if you can bring yourself to accept that not every meal you have will be satisfying, you will be able to more readily adapt to difficult situations and enjoy the good meals even more.

The Diet, it turns out, had the exact opposite effect on me. I am even more emotionally attached to food now. Knowing that it's something I need for survival AND pleasure makes my relationship with food nearly codependent. There are wonderful consequences to this, and that is that I crave new recipes and savor the ones I am delighted with. Cooking and thinking about what to cook next has been an exciting adventure around here.

The flipside, of course, comes when I'm past denying that there may be one more thing I have to eliminate from my diet. I've been trying to ignore it, but my body is now screaming at me that I am lactose intolerant as well. I'm making an appointment to get the official diagnosis, but in experimenting with dairy free and dairy-full meals, it's pretty clear that I feel better when I don't have a lick of lactose. My stomach is much more relaxed. My energy level is up. My migraines decrease.

I didn't know how much this was upsetting me until a conversation with T last night, when I asked if we could try a dairy free meal to see how I reacted.

"Sure," was his response. He was a vegan for two years, after all. This would not be a dealbreaker for him.

"Great... I'm going to make some black bean chili." Totally easy and cheap, and super good with cheese and chips from Trader Joe's.

"Okay, sounds fine."

"I'll get some shredded soy cheese to put on top."

"Okay, I'll get real cheese."

I paused - clearly this wasn't an unreasonable thing to think. The cheese doesn't go directly into the chili pot. it's a topping we add to our own individual bowls. At first I tried to argue that only one packet of shredded cheese would be more cost effective. He waved it off, saying he didn't mind buying the real cheese himself.

This escalated into a point where I was pleading with him to eat the soy cheese with me. "Why?" he understandably asked.

"Because I don't want to feel like a freak for cutting one more damn thing out of my diet!"

This surprised even me. I had been so optimistic up to this point, knowing that lactose intolerance was not something I had to monitor so closely like gluten. No cross-contamination issues, just ask for the cheese off my salad. Get another burger besides the cheeseburger. Use soy cheese when you can.

T asked thoughtfully, "You feel like a freak?"

"Kinda."

He shrugged. "Okay, then, if you want me to eat it with you for that reason, that's not a problem."

And we did have a lovely black bean chili tonight, complete with soy cheese. T even commented on the stellar meltiness, which had obviously been improved upon since he had last had it.

And my tummy? Full. Happy. Not bloated. Crap.

Time to head back to the allergist for a lactose intolerance test. It may not be necessary, but I do know I won't have the discipline to avoid dairy unless I'm given a medical diagnosis. I also don't think I should complain about my ailments until a doctor tells me I have them. It makes the whining much more satisfying.

Lucky readers. I hereby promise not to make the next few posts so negative and oh-woe-is-me. I've got enough stress in life from other areas that if I can get this one little problem fixed, I can concentrate on some other stuff with renewed optimism and energy.

And eventually, I'll be able to go back to food with the same convictions.

You never quite know the joy of a functional digestive system until you live without one for many, many years. I have to undo over a couple decades of bad eating habits. After thinking that cramping and running to the bathroom half the time after eating was just normal digestion, I've trained myself to eat through the pain. I've only seen the benefits of eating as the nice tastes that hit my tongue, and not the numerous other ones; a healthy diet can give you more energy, you can actually CONTROL your bloatiness every month based on the things you eat, and being properly fed has an enormous impact on your mood.

And thank goodness for Chipotle, an unexpected gluten-free haven that encompasses joys of both the palette and the gut.

It's taken quite a while of diet adjustment, and I'm still learning. No dairy yet, as my belly's still healing - lactose is difficult to digest for weak intestines. And not too many vegetables or fruits at the same time - too much fiber can bring the cramping all back. However, today's lunch cuisine was one of Chipotle's chicken burrito bowls, with rice, black beans, two different types of salsa, and lettuce sprinkled on top. No dairy, no gluten, plenty of protein, and not too high in the calorie count, either.

Not only was it delicious, but I'm typing this entry now almost two hours after eating it, and my stomach feels WONDERFUL. No cramping. No hasty digestion and running to the bathroom. A calm and relaxed belly is an amazing feeling, and every time I think of the way it used to be, I tear up a little.

It's going to take a while to feel like this calm of a stomach is normal. But the relief I feel over this is 25 years worth. And that's not an exaggeration. I can't believe there are people living with this condition for 40, 50, even 60 years before somebody figures out what's wrong with them. My quality of life has gone up enormously.

I also had a great night at Fred Meyer last night where I hit the gluten free MOTHERLOAD. After grabbing just a couple things from the gluten free shelf, I ventured out, more from curiosity than anything, to find something else that sounded really good. Some sort of Thai noodles really struck my fancy, and I found myself in the ethnic food aisle. (Still not sure why they call it that... they could say the Mexican and Asian food aisle and be more accurate.) I found tons of alternatives, from the Thai Kitchen and A Taste of Thai brands that were ALL gluten free. In fact, the Thai Ginger instant soup I had last night (the closest thing I've had to Ramen noodles in a long time) would be an easy conversion to egg drop soup.

The hunt for things I can eat can become exciting with the right attitude. Lumping the products on the table in front of Tom last night, pronouncing with each package, "Gluten free! Gluten free!" felt amazing. I'd have to say, if I had been told that I HAD to have an autoimmune disease and was forced to pick which one, I'd take this one in a heartbeat. Celiac disease, in this day and age, is completely livable.