Gluten Free Spokane

When I first share with someone the restrictions of my diet and life as a celiac, their eyes open wide and they make a comment like “Wow, that must be really hard for you.” My typical response is that not only is it worth it, it is fairly simple if I pay attention. I have found ways to make it easy: I set up my kitchen as a gluten free kitchen, I know where I can eat out, and I have good friends that know how to cook GF when we have a party.

I did have an experience recently though where being gluten free was really hard. I had one of those moments that was emotional and frustrating, and not because of anyone else, but just because of the situation. A few weekends back, three girlfriends and I had the opportunity to take a quick trip to Hawaii (made possible with thanks to Rico and mom). Scheduling four very busy, very driven, and very diverse women was not an easy task, even if it was just for three days.

I will make this long adventure of gluten free food around the big island short and get to the point: it happened on the last day. They wanted Poke. All of it had soy sauce and other questionable ingredients. This is the moment that eating gluten free is difficult for me. When the people around me have their hearts set on something that I cannot consume.

How do you balance the needs of others when on a gluten free diet? I know they care about my diet as beekeepers, foodies and salmon protectors. I know they are in tune to the details of good food and good diets. But it was a painful moment when they were able to fill their hungry bellies with protein and greens in new flavors, and I am unable to join in.

Food is a relationship thing, right?

So there I found myself, solo. Sitting at the Fish Hopper. The scent of plumeria from the flower leis offered for sale. Island music overhead, I could still hear the sound of waves crashing across the street.

Mai Tai half consumed, a plate full of the taste of the big island was put in front of me. Sautéed veggies, al dente, with mango and papaya, under Molokai sweet potatoes, under mahi mahi in a sweet but still tart citrus sauce. It was the best food I had on this island, ever.

My needs had been met, as had theirs. I imagined that they were poolside, drink in hand, gazing at the stars. I knew we were all happy, even if we were not together.