Gluten-Free at Gunpoint
A food writer, wracked with illness, gives up gluten. She feels better. It is terrible
I was a heavy gluten user. I ate a sandwich every day for my entire life. Sometimes twice. I ate pasta for dinner every other night. I ate pizza weekly. Fried chicken, eggplant parm, crackers. I ate crackers constantly. Beer was my go-to adult beverage. Soy sauce my salt. Pound cake, banana bread, waffles, doughnuts, bagels, English muffins, scones, shredded wheat, granola bars, pretzels, pita chips, falafel, dumplings, ramen, marble rye, semolina heroes, ciabatta, baguettes, croissants, holy cow the list was endless. My regular consumption.
So when my doctor prescribed a gluten-free detox, my instinctual reaction was an expletive.
Do you want to feel better? she said.
Of course, absolutely, yes, I did. I’d had a headache for four weeks. A headache that started as a five-day migraine. A migraine that started as temporary aphasia. That’s when you cannot make words, cannot communicate. Or maybe you are making words but the Duane Reade cashier’s expression suggests they may not be in sync with what you’re attempting to convey. It’s scary. I was aware it was happening when it was happening, and was aware I should do something or at least tell someone about it, but my immediate desire was…
