This Christmas was a turning point. For the first time, I came home to celebrate Christmas as a celiac. The traditions that define Christmas are gift-giving, yule longs, mistletoe, and a feast. One realizes as a celiac how much of our holiday traditions revolve around food. Being celiac turns a person into an outsider in all sorts of sudden, surreal ways. When one speck of gluten can damage my health for months, I develop a different way of looking at a loaf of french bread, a Christmas cookie, or a beer. For me, those things are poison, and the holidays are forever altered.
Last year I was in Argentina for Christmas, which now, seems like a wonderful strategy for a celiac (travel!). Perhaps it was a “should,” but I wanted to tap back into our family traditions. I flew in from Oakland to New York (where I checked out the city’s wonderful pioneering gluten-free restaurants, and then took a bus to Rhode Island). Christmas cooking preparations started early this year with phone calls and emails traded with my parents. We knew this year would be different, though we followed the same patterns that we usually did for our meals. Continue reading
