Celiac Bites

If I were suicidal...

If I were the suicidal type, I might think about participating in the FLOUR FIGHT during the annual carnival in Laza, Spain...

Maybe next year.

Photos from DamnCoolPics. Thanks to Mike for this find!

Are YOU lying to ME?

I only wish I was smart enough to have used this dying, I mean dining out technique before. But I'm not. I stumbled onto it purely by accident with the help of one very skeptical Dairy Queen employee.

My family and I were driving home from one of Tennessee's largest cities - The Gaylord Opryland Hotel. In case you haven't been, it's big. Like Texas big, only its not in Texas. Unfortunately I was not able to catch a performance by the Binkley Brothers' Dixie Clodhoppers or the Gully Jumpers.

We were there for a big-time Oireachtas. An Oireachtas is an event where thousands of screaming and stomping Irish Dance competitors, and their moderately intoxicated parents, gather to compete, yell, scream, and squeal. But mostly it's screaming and squealing.

Anyway, about half-way home, we got a hankerin' (that's southern speak for finding something intensely desirable) for a Dairy Queen stop. One of the great things about life as a Celiac is that Dairy Queen ice cream is gluten free. And healthy. OK, maybe just gluten free. 

I decided to get  a Blizzard with vanilla ice cream and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Mmm. Those of you who have read Celiac Bites before know how skeptical I am about eating in restaurants - not that one would normally refer to Dairy Queen as a restaurant. So you won't really be surprised by my next request of the Dairy Queen dude. I asked him (very politely) if he would mind cleaning the Blizzard machine before making mine as I have a food allergy. Yeah, I know, celiac isn't an allergy, but it's much easier to explain that way. He said sure, no problem, and went about his Blizzard making business.

About half way through the process, the Dairy Queen dude got a puzzled look on his face and loped back up to the counter to ask me a question.

"Are you lying to me about the allergy thing just to get me to clean the machine?"

Las manos de la muerte!

For those of you, like me, who don't speak fluent Spanish, the translation is...

Hands of Death!

The picture below, forwarded my way by Michael at www.twitter.com/mikebogen, is pretty self explanatory.

Heh.

Man vs. Celiac: PizzAlley's

These are the voyages of the Celiac Tom, continuing my mission to explore strange new restaurants and other eateries, to boldly go where no Celiac has gone before.

I found myself in St. Augustine, Florida over the holidays, wandering aimlessly in search of a restaurant for dinner along with 9 other family members. It was about 8pm - not an ideal time to start the hunt for food in a heavily trafficked tourist town. The early crowd from the Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum was out and ravenous from their viewing of Martha Stewart's Tiny Egg, and Ponce de Leon's Fountain of Youth had just closed, so seats at tables were at a premium.

Trying to get 9 people to agree on anything, especially a restaurant choice is about as easy as nailing Welch's Squeezable Grape Jelly to a wall. So in the interest of eating before the 2010 holiday season, I elected to abstain from voting on restaurant selection. After all, this is Man vs. Celiac, so I saw an opportunity for a new and unforeseen challenge, and put myself at the mercy of group think. Family group think.

Bad idea.

We ended up at a pizza and Italian place called PizzAlley's. That's what I get for ducking out of the group decision making process. Like crime, indifference doesn't pay. Trying to find a gluten free meal at a place that orders flour by the metric ton is kind of like playing russian roulette with all 6 cylinders loaded. Sometimes you just have to admit defeat.

So I settled on one of the few safe bets in my repertoire. Times 3. It's OK, Aunt Rissy drove home.

Got a little Captain in ya?

My gluten detection superpower

I have a gift.

I’ve been blessed with the supernatural ability to detect the quality and consistency of “thorough cleaning and sanitation processes.” Food manufacturers rely on these procedures to produce both standard and gluten free foods in the same facility. You might think that my powers would prompt generalized hero worship and mayors giving me keys to cities and such. In reality, my unique ability is more like a burden. I now completely empathize with Spiderman, and we attend the same self-help group on Tuesday evenings.

By the way, do you like how my superhero carries a grocery bag? That makes my enemies tremble with fear for sure.

Still, burden or not, I figure I still ought to use my talent for the greater good, so I continue to run right into blazing fires by testing new products that claim to be gluten free.

Take Chex cereal for example. There has been a lot of hype on the celiac bulletin boards and Twitter recently about various Chex cereals now being gluten free. General Mills also makes a big deal about it, listing “GLUTEN FREE” in large letters on the box front and four separate times on the back of the box. Either they are really concerned about my health, or they want to make a lot of money from the celiac community. I’m not sure which, but I would bet on the “want to make a lot of money” option. Either way, this was awesome news! A “normal” product I can buy in any grocery store instead of relying on UPS to deliver my food!

Being a gifted superhero, I teleported to the nearest store and bought myself a large box of Rice Chex. I used to love those when I was a kid. The very next morning, I ate a bowl - and promptly became violently ill. Nice. I love marketing.

This is where the value of my superpower comes into play. Lying on my death bed after the gluten-free Chex ingestion, I had a vision. I saw a large room with lots of noisy machinery and Wheat Chex hovering around dropping little gluten packages with  parachutes into the nooks and crannies of all the Chex making machines. When I regained consciousness, I managed to scrawl an email to Chex Customer Service. I asked them whether gluten-free Chex are made in a dedicated facility or at least on dedicated equipment. 

The response reminded me of why I love lawyers so much. Rather than simply answering my question, they gave me a 290 word statement that basically told me to check the label. To top that off, the response ended with the following:

“If there are no gluten-containing ingredients listed in the product ingredient label, we still cannot assure that this product is gluten free. While we have not added gluten-containing ingredients, factors such as sourcing, conditions of manufacture, etc. do not allow us to provide the full level of assurance that a gluten free claim requires.”

Unfortunately for me, I was only gifted with cross contamination detection superpowers and not a razor sharp intellect. You see, in my simple view of the situation, I was pretty certain that General Mills had made gluten free claims, maybe by writing GLUTEN FREE all over the box. This legal stuff is pretty complex though, maybe I should probably stay out of it and just stick to watching Boston Legal.

But, as I have said in previous posts, I am a giver. SO I persisted in getting my question answered so I could share it with you, the Celiac Bites reader. On my second attempt, I got the following response:

“Our Gluten Free Chex cereals are not produced in a gluten free facility.  We do, however, ensure against cross-contamination with gluten-containing ingredients and products through thorough cleaning and sanitation processes, including testing between gluten and gluten free product runs based on FDA proposed regulations.”

There you go. Cleaning and sanitation processes. As I wrote about in a previous post about dedicated fryers in restaurants, you have to believe in a lot of perfection before you trust your physical well being to “procedures.”

The moral of the story is that food manufacturers like to make money. And eating gluten free is becoming a trendy thing. So being savvy marketers, they are going to take every opportunity to sell more of their stuff by making it stand out from the competition. If a few celiac patients get killed in the process, well, that’s just the cost of doing business.

So be careful out there. Don’t blindly trust the marketing claims. Remember that there are a lot of great businesses that pride themselves on making real gluten free food - in gluten free facilities. Check The Gluten Free Mall for lot’s of those products. In fairness to General Mills, they claim to make the new Betty Crocker gluten free baking mixes in a gluten free facility. Hat’s off to them for that – and a big BOO for the scam on Chex cereal.

I’d love to here about any other cross contamination detecting superheroes out there. Let me know – maybe we can form a Cleaning and Sanitation Procedures Justice League!

Gluten free dining: How to interrogate your server

Disclaimer: The writers of Celiac Bites assume no liability for any consequences related to the use of enhanced server interrogation techniques outlined below.

Recently I wrote about Dying, I mean, Dining Out and the challenges of eating in restaurants safely. That got me thinking about the “usual” questions that I ask servers when I recklessly endanger my life eat out at restaurants. Here are a few ideas to get you started:

1. Do you have any reason to want to harm me? Did I pick on you or any of your friends when I was in kindergarten or grade school? I did not break your Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots game in 2nd grade. 
2. Does your meat/chicken/fish arrive pre-packaged or is it fresh?
3. Did any of your chefs ever study under Dr. Kevorkian?
4. Is there ANY type of marinade or seasoning that is added to your meat/chicken/seafood prior to cooking?
5. What other items are cooked on the same grill or griddle? (If patty-melts are a house specialty, I would be pretty nervous about ordering a burger.)
6. Are ANY seasonings besides 100% pure salt and pepper added during preparation?
7. Have you ever worked for Senseo’s Consumer Hotline?
8. Does your hamburger meat have any ingredients other than 100% pure meat? (Some have fillers!)
9. Have you ever been convicted of manslaughter, second, or even first degree murder? Should you have been at any previous time in your life?
10. What garnishes come on the plate?
11. Are your salads prepared to order or made at the beginning of each shift? (To be sure croutons are not simply “picked off” a pre-made salad)
12. Are we going to spend 10 or 20 minutes planning a perfect gluten free option for me only to have it delivered to the table with some random gluten-infested garnish on top like toastlets, fried onion crisps, or croutons? Because if that’s how you roll, I would like to know now rather than later.
13. Are your vegetables cooked in any sort of broth or are there any seasonings other than salt or pepper added?
14. Do you use real butter or a butter substitute?
15. Do you chefs use spray pan coating on the grill, griddle, or pans? If so, does it contain flour or is it 100% oil based?
16. Do you have any anger management issues that I should know about?

I would love to hear what y’all check for when dining out so please let me know!

Man vs. Celiac: Atlanta Hartsfield Airport, Concourse C

These are the voyages of the Celiac Tom, continuing my mission to explore strange new restaurants and other eateries, to boldly go where no Celiac has gone before. 

I like to think of myself as a really resourceful guy – able to maneuver may way around nearly any obstacle.

Since I just saw the new Star Trek movie, I might even confess to idolizing Captain Kirk’s solution to the Kobayashi Maru test. As I have learned from real trekkies, the Kobayashi Maru is a hellish simulation test for Starship Captain candidates that has no winnable outcome. Apparently the sadists at the Starship Federation just want to see how their Flash Gordon wannabees face certain death and the ultimate fear. By the way, Kirk reprogrammed the simulator in order to beat it as he refused to “recognize a no-win scenario.” That’s kind of like me on a Man vs. Celiac adventure. In my dreams. Did I go off on another tangent? Imagine that…

Resourcefulness is not a guaranteed solution though. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, life just throws you for a loop and the Klingons do in fact kick your fanny up and down the galaxy.

In this episode of Man vs. Celiac, I found myself running the 1,200 yard dash through Concourse C with 18 minutes between flights. I figured that left me a “find, choose, buy, and eat” time window of about 73 seconds.

However, as you may have picked up from my previous posts, I am a giver. So I accepted the challenge of finding a gluten free dinner, in the suckiest of Hartsfield concourses, in 73 seconds or less. All so I could pass on the hard earned knowledge to you. Like I said, I am such a giver. By the way, Concourse A is the best for gluten free dining - in my humble opinion. I will have to compare notes with GF Road Warrior on that topic. Maybe I will look him or her up and we can debate it online.

Anyway, back to the challenge. I am so easily distracted. Running down the concourse, dodging those electric trucks with insanely loud horns – frequent travelers you know what I am talking about – I caught a few glimpses of looming failure in my peripheral vision. Popeye’s Fried Chicken. Atlanta Bread Company. Gluten ‘R Us. Okay, I made up that last one, but it’s pretty representative of the slim pickin’s in Concourse C. In case you’re new to the whole celiac thing, those are some pretty onerous choices. You could die in Concourse C.

I did pass a couple of quick service stands on the way – all well stocked with… sandwiches. Great, I think I would have preferred to tackle the Kobayashi Maru challenge on this one.

Refusing to admit defeat, I found an option.

No, I’m not copping out and cheating. Hershey bars have all the basic food groups. Sugar, chocolate, and sugar.

Chalk up another successful mission and documented episode of Man vs. Celiac. So next time you're dashing through Concourse C, look for some Klingons to arm wrestle – your odds are better.  

Summertime Blues

I’m out of donuts.

Aunt Rissy really needs to plan her quantities better! How can anyone expect me to make 20 donuts last five whole days? What, am I Jenny Craig or something?

If I wasn’t afraid she would smack me upside the head (yes, that’s kind of a southern thing) I would kindly suggest she make more next time.

If she’s on the internet tonight, this may be my last post.

au⋅to⋅im⋅mune [aw-toh-i-myoon]

Dictionary.com definition

adjective Immunology.
Of or pertaining to the immune response of an organism against any of its own tissues, cells, or cell components.

Celiac Bites Translation:

word that my doctors say a lot. Being sick as all get out.
Your own self gets a hankerin’ to beat the crap out of its own dang self when you eat Pop-Tarts.

Last week I posted a deeply scientific essay on the fact that Celiac Disease is not an allergy.  This week, let’s take a closer look at what Celiac Disease really is – an autoimmune condition.

The concept of “autoimmune” is pretty simple. Basically, your auto-antibodies have a terminal crack habit. Either that, or they have spent too many days watching re-runs of Gilligans Island and have lost all short term memory as a result.

There’s really no other logical explanation. You see, unless you are a committed masochist, your own antibodies would have no real reason to attack their own home and the villi that live there in peace and harmony. So the only other explanation is that they don’t recognize their own kin, your villi. And there we are, right back to the crack habit or Gilligan’s Island theory.

Auto-antibody: “Have we met?”

Villi: “Yes, we’re related remember? We grew up together in Jersey City.”

Auto-antibody: “You’re full of it. I’m going to kick your @%#!”

There you have it. The Celiac autoimmune response happens simply as a result of your auto-antibodies failing to recognize their own relatives. So, being cantankerous fight club types, they commence beating the tar out of their own kin. 

Any questions?

Dying out, oops, I mean Dining Out

The hardest thing about living with Celiac disease, besides the weight loss, non-stop and lifelong flu symptoms, not being able to eat Krispy Kreme doughnuts, weird neurological disorders, tooth enamel breakdown, pizza moratoriums, general weakness, pain, abstinence from beer, perpetual tiredness, elevated risk of cancer, looking longingly at other peoples birthday cakes, ban on fried cheese, and a couple hundred other assorted things, is the inability to just go out to a restaurant and get something to eat.

If you’re a Celiac, going out to Chilis is kind of like making the decision to have kids. First you have to try many different restaurants to learn which ones have any potential of feeding you without causing your untimely death. Then, after dozens (or hundreds if you like to play on the wild side) of restaurant dating encounters, you have to start thinking about which one you are going to consider “marrying.”

Once that decision is made, a new courtship starts all over again.  You have to get to know your server in a really intimate way. Kind of like getting to know your in-laws. It’s going to be awkward, and worst of all, its going to be a public encounter. Somehow or another, you have to blurt out that you have a medical condition. Usually, at the moment you work up the courage to do this, background noise in the place suddenly dies down so that the whole dining room can clearly hear your detailed medical history.

In a perfect world, you’re done after the initial embarrassment. In the Celiac world, your dutiful server goes back into the kitchen, talks to the chef, then returns to ask you some more questions – in front of everyone. I guess this is good if you like being the center of attention, but I would rather get my notice for some more impressive reason, like inventing a new punctuation mark.

At this point, you’re at the mercy of the chef. And unfortunately that’s not a comforting place to be. Not to knock professional chefs and the importance they place on learning their craft, but its just unrealistic to expect anyone to know the thousands of details that can make you sick. Training on gluten free diets is certainly a good thing, but it hardly compares to the fact that it took me two years to really learn how to eat gluten free. And that’s when the consequences of making mistakes were life and death, or at least two or three days of intense illness, misery, and general grumpiness.  That’s the school of hard knocks.

So work with your chef, understand that many do have some basic knowledge, but don’t let that prevent you from asking confirming questions. A good chef will take pride in learning how to work with you and helping you to find a safe, and delicious meal to enjoy.

I’ve found that the best way to work with your chef is to be the kitchen. Look at the menu and take a minute to imagine what goes on in this particular restaurant place. Then consider how the dish you intend to order will be made in that environment.

Consider things like the following:

• Is it a brick oven type of place that makes pizzas or calzone’s? If so, there’s likely to be flour on countertop surfaces.
• Are the meals you’re interested in prepared in a baking dish of some sort? If so, there’s likely to be pan spray coating. Much of the restaurant grade pan coating is a mix of flour and oil.
• Is the food you are considering cooked on a griddle? What else does the restaurant offer that might be cooked on the same griddle? Pancakes, toast, or other breaded items?
• Are there a lot of fried food items on the menu? If so, assume any gluten free fried items you order are going to be cooked in a contaminated fryer.
• Is the restaurant a moderately priced place or maybe a chain? Think about what items may arrive pre-packed, and possibly, pre-marinated before the restaurant staff does anything. You would be amazed at how much food is pre-processed before it arrives at the restaurants back door. Burgers can have fillers, steaks and chicken can be pre-marinated whether fresh or frozen, and “homemade” items may be only blended on site and use pre-packaged ingredient kits.
• What else might come on the plate? I’ve had in depth discussions about the source of steak or chicken and possible marinades only to have my dish arrive covered with a sauce or gravy of unknown origin. I once had eggs, cooked in a separate pan for me, arrive with slices of toast laid on top!

While I can’t list every possible consideration here, I can share the idea of how to think about the environment in which your food will be prepared. Picture the kitchen, consider the preparation of your menu choice, then ask relevant questions.

Happy dining!