A Brief History of My Stomach's Life

I was born to a happy family of a mom, a dad, and a set of two-year-old twins. I can not imagine what those early years were like for my parents.

I stopped being the youngest and slowly became the middle child, as first my brother and then my sister were born.

That puts me as number three of five. I was raised on quick, easy, cheap, all-american dinners. Meals that were as easy to make food for ten as it is for four, and never anything with "weird" spices or cheeses. Our food groups were: bread, meat, veggies, milk and potatoes.

Classic, common meals were chicken burgers, pork cutlets, mashed potatoes, lasagna, one-pot pasta, Kraft Dinner, and any other form of potatoes.

As I grew old enough to start cooking, I was assigned one day a week, when I would make dinner for my whole family. I bought a couple of cookbooks, and starting buying things like goat cheese, and working with spices. I once made a lasagna that had wine in it. Most of my family disliked these meals, but I loved every single one.

When I graduated highschool, I moved out on my own and had big plans to cook balanced, healthy, exciting food. Instead, I lived on ramen noodles and alphaghetti for six months. My staples were tomato soup, pickles, and leftovers. My theme song was I'll Be There for You by The Rembrandts (the theme song from Friends).

Due to unforeseen living complications (read: my housemates moved to Seattle), I had to move back home for a couple of months. I was engaged at the time, so I just lived with my parents until my wedding.

I got married in September 2011, at the age of nineteen, to the love of my life, my highschool sweetheart, and the one person who knows me better than myself.

My eating habits changed once more after getting married. We both liked to cook, so we'd take turns and make dinner for eachother. For several months we had a learning period, where I burned several dishes, we both made things the other hated, and I frequently made enough to feed eight. After awhile, we figured out what each liked and didn't like, and found some basics.

Things I didn't like: Cooked mushrooms. Spicy food.

Things my dearest didn't like: Cheese that isn't mozza or cheddar. Pasta. Bland food. Anything that came pre-prepared or frozen. Things that made my dearest sick: Parmesan. Processed cheese.

So, as I'm sure you can see, we had quite the adjustment period.

We were finally figuring out how to cook for eachother, and what really worked, when Bam.

I was diagnosed with Celiac disease.

I felt like someone dropped me from a helicopter into a boat in the middle of a lake without a paddle. Everything I had cooked before was either coated in bread, served on pasta, or was bread.

My husband was more used to cooking with rice than I was, from his Hispanic background, so he took over the kitchen for a little while.

We both did a lot of research, a lot of reading, a lot of wandering aimlessly through the grocery store. We are still slowly discovering meals that don't have any gluten, and finding good replacements for the ones that rely on it.

(Also, he still eats gluten. He eats whatever he wants when we eat out, or when we eat separately, but he eats whatever I eat when we cook it, so we aren't cooking two meals.)

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