From almost the moment I was born, I was in the kitchen. I remember sitting on the counter watching my mom stir together chocolate chip cookies, so hoping that I would get to lick the beater. My grandma was known for her delicious meals. My mom had outdone her, if that was possible. The wonder of what a little whisked butter, sugar, flour and chocolate could do captured my imagination. I was hooked.
I spent my growing up years checking out cook books at the library. Fascinated by how other cultures ate, I began cooking through the foods of Germany, France and Ireland. Sneaking down the stairs at 3am to begin a surprise apple strudel made with dough rolled so thin you could read the newspaper through it was worth the cries of delight from my family that morning at the breakfast table.
Fast forward 6 years and I was a "grown up" college student attending my first semester of Culinary Arts. Herbs, lemon beurre blanc, chocolate trifles, poached rainbow trout on a bed of kale - life was a wondrous cycle of cooking and sleeping (with a good dose of homework to keep me grounded). Spending my days cooking food, thinking about food, talking about food, and imagining how certain ingredients would taste, was my greatest joy.
The next several years came with many distractions, and I began to lose sight of my first love. Work, commuting, housework and ill health began to steal my cooking time. I began to purchase things I would have been embarrassed to be seen with earlier. Processed food, quick burgers and tacos began to take over as my normal fare, and my health worsened.
The doctor seemed so off hand when she recommended I try a gluten free diet.All my tests had come back clear, yet I was still suffering from debilitating fatigue and a plethora of other symptoms. I went home, had a "last meal" of chicken strips and jo jos (my favorite quick meal at the time) and prepared for a month of gluten free eating, little knowing that I had just taken the first step down a very unique path.
Within days my symptoms had abated so quickly that it was obvious what had been causing so much of my illness. With my new good health in hand I began to explore new cooking techniques. As my diet progressed it became evident that not only was I intolerant of gluten, I also could not eat dairy, corn or soy. This was quite a blow at first. I went from being able to eat anything to being able to eat nothing in less than 2 months. Or, I at first thought that I could have nothing. That was before my "inspiration."
As I sat down to a delicious meal of pan seared lamb, roasted red potatoes, sweet potato and brussel sprouts I had to laugh to myself. If this was eating nothing, I could definitely keep it up! My allergies were not death knells to eating! They were the catalyst for a deeper, more enjoyable form of cooking.
In this age of condiments, protein fillers and high fructose corn syrup the real flavor and texture of food has been lost. Apples are dipped in caramel, potatoes are slathered in butter, chicken is covered in flour and deep fried. We get fast food and eat while driving. We order in pizza to relax, and take anti acids to keep our stomach quiet.
I have discovered (again!) that a well cooked meal should leave you pleasantly filled without a feeling of heaviness. Vibrant colors and interesting textures bring a variety to food that we have lost. Your plate should be a feast to the eyes, as well as the stomach. There is a feeling of joy and peace to know that what you're eating is good, and good for you.
Eating this way is by no means easy. I have to take food everywhere, and it does take longer to plan and prepare meals. But I am enjoying life again. My imagination is again captured by ingredients and flavors. My creativity is at work as I create new flavors and meal combinations .
I have rediscovered my love of cooking.
A hamburger patty, smothered in onions and mushrooms wrapped in a lettuce leaf with dijon mustard and grapes.
Gluten free brownie chunks mixed with strawberries and raspberries topped with crushed pecans.
