One Grain More. (one must see).

Once in a great while, someone actually draws, posts, or blurts out something funny about food allergies.  No, it is no laughing matter.  But when "can't", "don't", and "life-threatening" sticks to our backs like a big red bulls eye, leaving friends and family cursing under their breath when we come over for dinner, it's time for some funny stuff to rise out of the ashes like a gluten-free phoenix.  

This video is my phoenix for the day, leaving me in tears with quips like:

"tomorrow we'll discover foods that even vegans have fore-sworn." 

I"ll leave you to discover the rest. 

... and thank you, Michael Bihovsky, Lilly Bayrock, Michael J. De Florio, Megan Ermilio, Dena C. Blumenthal, Bernie Langer, Matthew Dorsch, and Elizabeth Filante Sanders.  You peops are awesome.

More info: http://www.michaelbihovsky.com

(And of course, Viktor Hugo and Claude-Michel Schönberg.)

THE GIFTS OF “NO”

As seen in Women's Lifestyle Magazine's June, 2012 edition.

Too Much "No" in Your Life?

I don’t know about you, but there has been a little too much “no” in my life, lately. Of course, for Tender Foodies, “no” is a word we use a great deal, and we need to learn to say it well. But the issue of turning something away, something that we normally would love to accept, transcends the narrow world of food allergies. “No” is not an easy word.  

Over the last few months, I’ve listened to more than a few women say, “yes” when perhaps a little (or a lot) more self-protection might be in order.  My heart was disquieted as these pretty amazing chicks described their choices. A couple of friends were getting mixed up with people who were not treating them with even a modicum of respect.  They stood up and said, “Hey, that’s out of line.  If you want me to trust you, knock it off,” but then felt guilty and apologized. Or they manipulated the situation to a perceived advantage.  I’ve also listened to stories from people with Celiac Disease who had trouble turning away a dish that their well meaning, but untrained friends made “just” for them, even though that dish contained ingredients that would harm them and make them suffer horribly.  

But as I listen to myself become the dreaded voice of reason, I wondered if the many “no’s” that I’ve had to say lately have given me a more negative outlook on life. “No” is a gift.  So, why is it so hard to say, and when do we get to say, “yes”?


Maybe it’s simply physics. Since every action has an equal and opposite reaction, perhaps too many “no’s” build up like needy vagrants begging at our doorstep unless we find that shy “yes” hiding just around the corner.  These “yes’s” are the gifts of “no” but we must go through the work to look for them.  

Here are a few of the "Gifts of No" that I've found.

“No” Creates Safety

I asked Joan Hofman, MA, LPC for some guidance with this one.  Joan is a licensed professional counselor, who uses a variety of progressive (and super interesting) energy therapies in her practice.  

“For most people, “no” creates a sense of boundary so you can stay safe and secure, but there are additional challenges for someone with food allergies.  “No” keeps you safe from a potential allergic reaction, but you also need to find a way to keep from implicating to another that their level of caring is not enough. It’s an incredibly awkward moment to say, “Thank you for loving me but the way you’re showing it could kill me.” “

When we reject a friend’s offer of food, or anything well-meaning, it can feel like we are accusing them of not caring. In reality, they don’t have the knowledge, the tools, or the power to create a dish that is safe enough for us to eat.  It’s not their fault.  It feels wrong to put them in that position, and in a sense, it is. But it isn’t wrong to say “no” and we certainly don’t need to put ourselves at risk. It’s not our fault either.

So how do we handle it?  Realize that it’s not just about the food.  Since everyone responds differently to rejection, address each host’s natural need to feel good about themselves as care givers via the food.  Let them know that you are fine and that you appreciate them without eating a bite.

“No” Helps Us Be Authentic

My secret crush, Anthony Bourdain, would probably hate me.  Anthony is a chef, author, and the star of Travel Channel’s “No Reservations”.  He is a true believer in eating whatever is put in front of you because if someone went through the trouble of making it, you should be gracious enough to eat it. As I watched him swallow an unwashed warthog rectum in Namibia, knowing full well that powerful antibiotics were in his future, I knew he meant what he said. This is the guy who calls vegetarians, “the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit” for, I believe, this very reason.  Obviously, I don’t share his disdain of my vegetarian friends but I am terribly amused by his Agatha Christie-like mistrust of them. On the flipside, I also believe that food is a gift to be graciously accepted, and as a Tender Foodie, I am in constant conflict because of this belief.

I imagine standing in front of Anthony in his kitchen, with my little allergy card, squeaking.  “Uh, Chef, I have to go over the ingredients with you.  I can’t eat this, this, this…oh and this…and this…by the way, were those nuts processed in a gluten-free facility and can we sautee the ingredients for that foi gras without dairy?”

But if I had to, I would do it, for two reasons:

1.    If I don’t question my hosts about ingredients (or simply withdraw from the meal and opt for strictly social interaction), I would be worthless to society.  I couldn’t function.  Maybe right then and there, and maybe for the next 5 days starting tomorrow.  Either way, life is too important to let myself be incapacitated or incur long term damage. Health is freedom and I’ve got shit to do.

2.    For better or for worse, this is who I am.  If I can’t embrace it, how can I expect anyone else to?  

One of the many things I admire about Anthony Bourdain is that he is true to himself. He is authentic. I trust that he would at least respect me for being the same.

“No” Offers Possibilities

When I lived in New York City, one of my yoga teachers (Amy Ippoliti at Elena Brower's Vira Yoga) said something that forever changed me.

“Make the sweeter choice.”  

This statement was so profoundly different than my own learned system of veiled self-sacrifice that it struck a bell in my head. Ding! Choices fly by at every moment, so why take the distasteful one, the “should” that limits you to only one option?  (Uh… sacrifice is pretty final, eh?)  

A “yes” to that second brownie is enjoyable, but a “no” to a 3rd might leave us open for a healthier tomorrow.  That’s not so hard.  But even if life itself presents a series of very harsh realities, there is a choice that is sweeter than the other.  The options may not be “what we want”, but if we look for the possibilities and choose the sweetest of the lot, we can get ourselves out of some pretty serious jams.  Let go of the toxic and make space for healthier interactions that offer an increasing number of sweet possibilities.

“No” Builds Trust

I am a pleaser, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to please, and receiving pleasure from pleasing. Plus, saying “no” is risky. People don’t like hearing it and sometimes they become angry or disappointed.

Still, the biggest mistakes in my life (so far) have come from saying “yes” when the core of my being was telling me “no.” Hard lessons have taught me that if I’m feeling stressed in a relationship, it’s time to immediately dive down to the center of my being and become honest with myself. Life will change for the better, however unpredictably, if I can find those two little letters, purse my lips, and say them as truthfully and as kindly as I can.  

I don’t know Mike Robbins but I love what he has to say about this:

“Our ability and capacity to say "no" with confidence is one of the most important aspects of creating peace and power in our lives. This is about creating healthy boundaries, honoring ourselves, and being real -- it's not about being closed, cynical, or unwilling.”  

~Mike Robbins, Author, Motivational Speaker

When we choose to focus solely on external qualities like being a nice gal or a faithful friend, and ignore our priceless, internal intuition, trust is more easily broken. People don’t feel that we mean what we say. Communication disappears. But if we balance those external values with the gifts of honoring our “Yes’s” and “No’s”, others can tell when and how they can count on us.  If we receive the same in return, we know when and how we can count on them.  Eventually, we simply trust each other.


This balancing the gift of “no” with our quest for “yes” takes lifelong practice. But like a muscle, perhaps the more we work it out, the stronger and more beautiful we become.  Like returning daily to the piano to practice our scales, listening to our intuition is the most humbling of work that builds a foundation for an effortless and magnificent life.

About Elisabeth

Elisabeth VeltmanWriter, owner of Blue Pearl Strategies, and lover of all culinary delights, Elisabeth is a Tender Foodie. She started The Tender Palate, a website for foodies with food allergies where she consults with experts from every area of the Tender Foodie life. She believes that everyone should live deliciously and have a healthy seat at the table. Find her at www.tenderpalate.com.

Kyra's Perfect Gluten-Free Picnic

By Guest Blogger, Kyra Bussanich of Crave Bake Shop

My husband and I are both avid hikers, and because we are obsessed
with good food, a hike is an opportunity for a picnic. Food always
tastes better when you've physically exerted yourself, but it's not
necessary to travel far in order to enjoy a good picnic. A lot of
public parks have free summer concerts where you can bring food and a
cozy blanket and enjoy the live music.

I absolutely adore picnics! I prefer to spread a blanket out on the
grass and take off my shoes and squinch up my toes in the cool grass,
but in Portland it tends to rain--a lot--so sometimes we light candles
and have a picnic in our living room. Because I always get so excited
about the prospect of picnic dinner, I often end up overpacking and we
end up with enough food for 6 people in addition to us! It's a great
way to make friends (human or furry!) at parks.

Absolutely critical in our picnic dinner baskets:

• Manchego or Beechers Flagship cheese
• Quince paste (and a butter knife or cheese spreader)
• Pears
• Seedless grapes
• Cold turkey breast or fried chicken (we make our own chicken using a
• Combination of rice flour and erewhon corn flakes as a breading)
• Kalamata olives
• Baby carrots and boursin or rondele cheese
• Pinot gris
• Cheese board and slicer
• Wine bottle opener and glasses

A Few Dairy-Free Replacements

• Use roasted red pepper or garlic hummus for the baby carrots (in lieu of the boursin).
• Replace the cheeses with avocado and cucumber sandwiches.  Use the cukes as the "bread".
• Spread the avocado over Rudis toasted multigrain sandwich bread with roast beef or turkey and lettuce (see other ideas for using avocado as a dairy replacement)

Sometimes we'll add the Glutino Multigrain Crackers to our basket, but
there's always dessert.

Picnic Desserts (of Course)

Dairy free truffle brownies (see my recipe) travel really well; just wrap them
individually in waxed paper and store in a small container with firm
sides, or pack them on top of the picnic basket so as you're
unpacking, you can get excited about the dessert to follow the meal.

Other picnic treats that travel well: lemon bars or blackberry crumb
bars, or rice crispy bars (or my favorite: peanut butter fudge rice
crispy bars--the recipe will be in my upcoming cookbook). I also adore
chocolate-dipped strawberries, which are super easy and don't require
you to turn on the oven, which is a bonus if it is super hot out.

How to Make Chocolate Dipped Strawberries

Melt good-quality chocolate in a microwave-safe container at 15 second intervals, stirring in between each interval, until the chocolate is smooth. Then just dip your washed and dried strawberries into the chocolate and place on waxed paper or parchment paper and let the chocolate set.

A picnic basket isn't necessary: a small cooler, open top basket or
even a backpack will do!

About Kyra

Kyra BussanichKyra Bussanich is the owner of Crave Bake Shop, and the first gluten-free winner of the Food Network's Famed, "Cupcakes Wars".  Kyra graduated with honors from the prestigious Le Cordon Bleu patisserie program, which gave her a solid foundation of knowledge about classical French baking techniques which she was able to apply toward baking gluten-free.  Kyra was diagnosed with an auto-immune disorder when she was 20 years old. Part of staying healthy meant switching to a gluten-free diet, avoiding all wheat and overly processed foods. Whenever possible, she uses local ingredients, and serves customers with multiple allergies, as well.

Love & Belonging Through Bread & Tea

My maternal grandmother

Making Someone's Presence Valuable

My maternal grandmother was a baker.  She had passed away when I was around 12 years old at the beautifully ripe age of 92.  I only knew her for a short time, yet her presence in my life was large and loving.  There was a wisdom, a naughtiness, and the knowledge that she could (and would) take on any life circumstance and make it right.  Navigating the bizarre and the trivial, she charted the world to her course and no one else's.  I remember invading her world often, and whenever I did, she always found a way to make my presence valuable. 

It's no wonder then, that when I find myself tossed about by life or the fickleness of friends, I think of her.  She was a faithful spirit who suffered no fools. 

Many years ago when she lived in her house on Leonard street, she would regularly invite us over for tea.  My mom, my sisters, and I would dress properly, and then walk up the steps to her home.  It was rather formal and mysterious, this "going to Grandma's house."  I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the simple fact that my mother had a mother, and that this woman lived by herself.  I thought it strange that she was "old", and did not understand what "old" really meant.  I just knew that my sisters were "much" older than me (and they never let me forget it), and that my mom was much older than my sisters, which meant that Grandma must be very, very old, indeed. 

Grandma receives a teapot from my sisters, before I was born.

Grandma gave birth to her last, my mother, when she was 49.  Her first child, my aunt, was 22 years my mother's senior.  She had 7 more children in between.  These numbers were incomprehesible, and my mom has always looked freakishly young for her age which confused things even more. Today I watch in utter bemusement, as the faces of my nieces and nephews consider this puzzle between their moms, grandmas and aunties.  A puzzle that adults can only pretend to have deciphered.   Grandma was a mystery.  Age was a mystery.  It still is.

An Unlikely Tradition

Besides bearing a freakishly young-looking youngest, my Grandmother also made freakishly amazing Dutch pastries.  The tea... well...I've never tasted orange pekoe tea like Grandma's.  That spicy, slightly flowery scent and the forbidden-grown-up taste became part of my DNA, its detail brewed into my memory.  Grandma gave us each our own cup, my sisters and I.  We were a part of her house, and as we grew up, our tea cups grew up, too.  My first was the tiniest tea cup I had ever seen.  But with Grandma, I never, ever felt small.  Even that tiny teacup made me feel like I belonged.  It was my size, after all.

My first "tea" cup

As a food allergic adult, I have never felt that I could transform the flakiness of her Banket (almond roll), or the doughy goodness of her Olie Bollen (Dutch Fritters/Donuts) into a gluten-, yeast-, and dairy-free version that would do her justice.  My grandmother was a true talent and became a resourceful single mother when my mom was but seven.  She milked her own cow (Bessy) and was also no stranger to food allergies.   When my mom had an allergic reaction to Bessy's milk, she bought a bunch of goats.  She used this "new", alternative ingredient without missing a beat. 

 My mom and her goat, Molly

After I grew up and moved away, I would fly back into Grand Rapids to visit, and sometimes would find my mom and Grandma's  oatmeal chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen.  These cookies were my favorite.  When I couldn't eat them anymore, I thought, "No big deal.  It's just cookies."  In a sense this is very true.  Then one day I saw my mother's furrowed brow mulling over "gluten-free" boxes of this and "dairy-free" bags of that and I had a moment of profound realization.  It wasn't just about cookies.  I thought that I had to actually surrender my grandmother into the abyss of my allergen-free world.  I was secretly mourning the loss of, not cookies, but precious memories and with them some sense of real belonging.  But by transforming a favorite, traditional recipe into one that her daughter could eat, my mother was honoring a sacred food tradition.  Food traditions have a spiritual importance, even if carried on in an unlikely way. 

I haven't yet been able to alternatively duplicate many of my Grandma's toughest recipes, but I've been able to adapt this Dutch Cinnamon Bread that my mom used to make.  When the cinnamon wafts through the house, it brings me back to my mom's kitchen and always, for some reason, reminds me of my grandmother.  I offer this recipe to you as I carry a family food tradition into my world of alternative ingredients.  I hope that Grandma would feel loved and be proud.

My Mom, about the same age as my Grandmother in her portrait at top

So on this Mother's Day, I appreciate my smart and generous Mom.  She taught me how important our ancestors are to us and kept us connected to her brothers, sisters and mother for as long as she could.    I also remember my Grandmother.  I never wanted to leave her table.  Thank you for teaching me that love and belonging can come through something as simple as bread and tea.  Even in a memory.  Even if it's gluten-free.

About Elisabeth

Writer, owner of Blue Pearl Strategies, and lover of all culinary delights, Elisabeth is a Tender Foodie. She started The Tender Palate, a website for foodies with food allergies where she consults with experts from every area of the Tender Foodie life. She believes that everyone should live deliciously and have a healthy seat at the table. Find her at www.tenderfoodie.com and www.bluepearlstrategies.com.

Begin Again.

If you can't run to the end of the road, walk there.

If you need to rest, rest.

Then begin again.

It's your road.