the gluten free authority

(Pardon my absence. And how messy this is about to get. F-ck cohesion. The sun came out today for the first time in like 300 days and we’re all tripping hot balls in Vancouver right now.)

I am a) expecting a girlfriend in from Miami (with a whole intact face thankgod) and b) leaving SO SOON for a weekend away in Ucluelet to celebrate baby brother & other girlfriend’s 30th birthdays. There has been a lot of planning and more planning for this trip. Discussions around food have been the most complex. We eventually all agreed that if everybody brings their own sh-t and we just cook and share and laugh and fart together and then Instagram the whole thing, it will be perfect.

Last night I got my gluten free essential essentials for being away. They consist of: Zesty Cheese Doritos, trail mix, corn tortillas, Honey Chex, peanut M & M’s, apples, bananas, instant peanut noodles and some grapefruit Perrier. Still missing - gf graham crackers & wieners. This is a trip where some people are going surfing and some people (read: me) are lying in the shade with f-cking SNACKS and giving the middle finger to anybody who suggests actually moving. Oh, and I also got military-grade bug spray. Try me mosquitoes. TRY ME.

What you see above is not coming. That was part of a gluten free buying binge I went on last week to help deal with the terrible mechanic bill that took a wet sh-t on our heads. It was a gluten free lava cake from French Made Baking that I re-heated, topped with sliced berries & a squirt of fake cream, and then shared with my kid. Her face was a chocolate smeared nightmare, but she was totally content. (Oh, yeah, keep forgetting to yell at you guys - you need to try their salted caramel macaron. It is so good that I would not share it with my kid. I would cock my head, ask her with a serous face, “Is Elmo in your room RIGHT NOW wanting to play with you?” and then eat it slowly while she took off screaming.)

So, I’ll be away eating terrible things for a few days. I’ll be on Twitter & Instagram (gfauthority) if you really can’t handle being apart.

Also - next week is my interview (& giveaway!) with the lady geniuses behind Origin Bakery. (Yum & yay!)

Until then, SNACKS!

The game done changed. As soon as the Gluten Free Epicurean opened for business, Vancouver became a beautiful place to be gluten free.

Go there. Park awkwardly but know it’s worth it. Step in. The interior is so white and crisp and lovely it feels like (bear with me) you’re stepping into a little corner of heaven.

Then you see the apple fritters the size of your head, the S’mores bars, the cinnamon rolls, the baking mixes, the ice cream bars in the freezer and you pass out. You wake up and realize you have some serious eating to do. This sh-t is real and it’s getting better every day.

I’d been following them on Facebook to see what new amazing concoctions they were coming up with. (On weekends when I don’t have to drive I cling close to home. So I look at gluten free food online like it’s delicious porno.) I saw promises of pizza the other day. And then milk and cookies bars. I don’t even know what those are, but I have full faith that they will be NUTSO AMAZING.

But, looking at that picture up there, that angel food cake, fully dressed, that was the reason I finally dragged my lazy ass down to the bakery.

Every celiac has that one food they would cheat with on their deathbed. Mine has always been angel food cake. I used to make them from a mix during summers spent in the country at my Grandparents. Tiptoe around while it was baking to ensure the cake wouldn’t fall - a culinary disaster that would ensure a dense chewy beast instead of a light fluffy airy concoction in your mouth.

When it was done, tipped upside down to cool, I’d carefully ease it onto a plate and if nobody was around, carry the entire thing out to the TV, settle in and steadily rip off ragged sweet chunks of cake and eat until there was nothing more.

I have never attempted to bake a gluten free angel food cake. It felt like it would be impossible - something I would get really excited about and spend an afternoon doing, ignoring my kid and making a yolk-y mess and then…what? It wouldn’t be the same. It couldn’t. Could it?

That piece of cake, nestled in a take-out bed of tangy lemon curd, dollops of cold white whipped cream and sweet slices of berries, was as good as I could hope. I sat in my car, windows down, (only minutes to myself before dashing off to a meeting) and let the flavours pass my lips, dally in my mouth and spread such a sweetness through me. The sun poured in and and even if it looked like a crazy pig eating by myself in a dirty white car, I did not give a sh-it.

I had found what I was looking for. My celiac heart was soothed. Go. Go eat there. It will be the best part of your day, anyday. I promise.