What I Get.

Many people's initial reaction when I mention my new diet (and, let's face it, I've mentioned it to just about everyone in the last six weeks or so, including total strangers) is "What do you eat?!"  Frankly, it was my first reaction, too.

But if my narrative of late has been the narrative of "no wheat, dairy, or eggs" (to the extent that Jo has also taken it upon herself to inform strangers that "Mom is allergic to wheat, dairy, and eggs"), it has also become a narrative of unsuffering sacrifice.  Ribs instead of a burger.  Sushi instead of a sandwich.

I made a fantastic batch of granola last week that I'm not sure I would have happened upon were it not for the new diet.  And I've returned to an old affection for vanilla soy milk.  Berries and watermelon and peaches and nectarines.  Soon we'll be home in the Pacific Northwest before cherry season is over.  I can hardly wait.  Roast chicken.  Olives.  Hummus and tahini, salsa and chutney.  I am not suffering, I assure you.

Last night I tossed together one of my new favorite desserts that will linger long after this phase has passed me by, Coconut Polenta Cake.  Indeed, the sacrifice is small, and the limitation renews my creativity as every good artist learns when muddling with a new medium.

Good Granola

Wet Ingredients (mix together)
1/2 c. unsweetened applesauce
1/4 c. canola oil
1/2 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. honey
2 tsp. vanilla
2 tsp. salt
1 Tb. Penzey's Baking Spice (or good cinnamon)

Dry Ingredients
3 c. rolled oats
1 c. steel cut oats
1 c. nuts (slivered almonds are my choice)

Mix together dry ingredients and pour wet ingredients over, stirring until evenly coated.  Press onto parchment-lined rimmed sheet pan and bake at 300 degrees for 25 minutes.  Stir, and continue to bake at 10-15 minute increments, stirring in between, until golden brown.  Store in air-tight container.  Frankly, I don't know how long this will keep, since it never lasts me as long as it should.

Coconut Polenta Cake

Preheat oven to 350.

Whisk together 1 can light coconut milk, 3/4 c. cornmeal, 1 tsp. salt, and 1/2 c. sugar. 
Pour into greased 9x9 pan, top with a generous handful of fresh or frozen raspberries. 
Bake 40-45 minutes until set. 
Cool to room temperature and slice. 
Also good chilled (that is, for breakfast).

What I Miss.

• Bread.
• Fried eggs.
• Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies.
• Cheese.  Yes, cheese, Gromit.
• Did I say bread?
• Restaurant Menus.
• Milk.
• Licking the spoon.  Or my fingers.
• Evening up the edges.
• Stroganoff.
• Scrambled eggs.
• Communion bread.
• Toast.
• Cheese samples.
• Yogurt.
• Bread samples.
• MorMor's Fruit Cobbler.
• Mindless eating.  (Okay, it's probably good I've given this one up.)
• Pizza.
• Cheese.
• And bread.

Faithfulness

Taking up a new habit such as this (rather dramatic, if I may say) shift in my diet has only been possible so far with a daily commitment.  That is, each day I commit to eating this way, today.  I ask no more than that of myself.

In the past week, however, I have read two distinct blog posts both from faithful and wise friends who advise, conversely, to make some long-term plans that might serve as a guiding star for one's life, and to acknowledge the immediacy of each day--even each moment--in the reminder that in tomorrow, life might be entirely changed.

How to balance this tension?  How to make a commitment that is only one day long and nonetheless call it a commitment?

These questions lead me to think about the double meaning of faith and faithfulness.  On the one hand, we speak of faithfulness as a steady commitment over time.  To keep faith with someone is to endure.  To walk.  To live.  To entrust.  Faithfulness is not fleeting.  On the other hand, to live in faith is to step into the unknown moment.  To move into the realm of unseen things.  To trust.  Faith reaches toward the future, uncertain of all that lies ahead.

I often tell my students (and remind myself) that I am a person of faith.  I don't know how they understand the term, but when I say that, I mean to speak the double meaning of faith.  I am a person of commitment and consistency (overmuch, perhaps some would say) and at the same time, I endeavor to cast my lot into the unknown stretching out before me.

Of course, what I also mean to say when I announce that I am a person of faith is that I do not and cannot dwell in this faith alone.  It is a gift from God, and it is sustained by the community of faith that surrounds me.  This faith is ultimately the food that I eat.  It is the blessing of God realized in bread and wine (even, though they are dreadful in a way I had not anticipated, gluten-free wafers) that becomes my life.

Past and future.  Surrounding and within.  Received and given.

Passing up pizza for a time hardly seems like an act of faith, particularly given the real sufferings the world has to distribute among God's children, but the daily choices of what and how I eat have a way of getting my attention.  So I am grateful for the faith given to me and hope, for today, that I will live it out on behalf of others, or at least one other.

Amen.

Eating in a New Way

When the pediatrician suggested we run some allergy tests to see if we could help Matt's itchiness and dry skin, I said a quick prayer that it wouldn't turn up a dairy allergy. 

When the nurse called a few days later, she told me that it was, in fact, wheat . . . and eggs . . . and dairy . . . and peanuts.

Oooof.

My first inclination was that he'd be switching to formula right away.  But then I remembered how expensive formula is--especially the allergy-safe formula.  So I decided to take it one day at a time.  So far, more than a month later, I'm still sticking with it.  At least for today.

I did allow myself to go shopping right away for some alternative ingredients to have on hand, and I immediately proved to myself that I could still make and eat treats by whipping up a batch of rice crispy treats and eating almost the whole pan. 

So now I'm a gluten-free, meat-eating vegan who is the obnoxious person pestering waitstaff with questions.

I've also gotten to read a whole host of interesting cookbooks I wouldn't have otherwise touched.

And I'm still eating pretty well.

An update, of a sort

There's too much to catch up on in the more-than-a-year past, but I'm back in cooking and writing mode.  Cooking because I'm taking up a challenge on behalf of my young son (yes, he's part of the more-than-a-year past) to eliminate all wheat, eggs, and dairy from my diet.  If you look back over many of the recipes I've posted here, you'll see that this is a significant shift.  In fact, the title of the blog belies an affection for baked goods that is strong (and without wheat, eggs, and dairy, cookies are a mere shadow of what they are meant to be).  But I'm finding plenty to eat nonetheless, and I've made some interesting chemical discoveries in the world of substitutions.

And writing, I hope that will be returning, too, since I'm faced with a double-edged sword of time in the form of a sabbatical from ordinary teaching and administrative responsibilities, and I have a host of writing projects I'm planning.  Yes, this blog is one of them. 

So, if you're still out there, thanks for checking in.  I'm planning to be here more often in the coming weeks, too.