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!
May 19, 2013
You have celiac. Me too. That bites. So get over it, one bite at a time.
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!
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?”
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.
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?
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.
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.
adjective Immunology.
Of or pertaining to the immune response of an organism against any of its own tissues, cells, or cell components.
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?
Me (over and over again): “No, but I am allergic to being asked if I’m allergic to bread.”
Next Question: “So can you eat donuts?”
Me: “Can you eat rocks?”
Celiac Disease is an autoimmune condition, not an allergy. There’s a big difference between the two, the main one being that autoimmune sounds a lot more impressive. So impressive in fact that most people have no idea what an autoimmune condition is. That’s what makes it kind of fun if you’re one who thrives on the pity of others. When I tell people that I have an autoimmune condition, they tend to immediately take two steps back in case its contagious. Then there is that saaaad look…
From a practical perspective, there’s not much to be gained by trying to tell people that I have an autoimmune disease, and not an allergy. I have to confess that when in restaurants trying to explain what I can and cannot eat, I always tell people that I am “allergic” to gluten. It’s just a lot easier, even if my illness does not sound nearly as cool.
So what’s an allergy? Technically, allergies are highly sensitive reactions by ones body to certain, and usually normal, substances. Allergies are also a little bit like shoes. You can get them most anytime during your life. It’s also possible that you can outgrow them, but not always. While allergies can be quite serious, and even fatal, they can be described as a reaction to exposure to wheat or other allergens. So, yes, there are people who are actually allergic to wheat, and therefore share a necessary gluten free lifestyle with people diagnosed with Celiac. Life is not very pleasant for those poor folks either.
On the other hand, Celiac, being an autoimmune condition, is more like a chain reaction. If you read my post on Vikings and Blazing Saddles fight scenes, you’ll understand the comparison, where the presence of gluten, and more specifically gliadins, create a full scale war between auto-antibodies and your hapless, and helpless, villi.
So the next time someone asks if you’re allergic to bread, you can answer with confidence…
Yes!
Trust me, it’s a lot easier to explain than the truth!
*** Warning! There is a better than even chance that the following post contains satirical content. The authors of this site cannot assume any liability for potential public backlash against Oompa Loompas, Mel Brooks movies, and/or the good people of Norway. Thank you for your understanding. ***
Just been diagnosed? Don’t quite understand what Celiac is and what causes it? Have a broad range of really annoying symptoms and don’t know why? Unless you have an obsession with transglutaminase’s and antigliadin’s,
the nuances of Celiac Disease can be a little difficult to digest.
Ahem, pun intended. Boy I crack myself up sometimes.
Let’s take a stab at explaining this really complex topic in true Celiac Bites fashion. That could be a little dangerous, but here goes…
I think the easiest way to describe Celiac is to compare it to the big fight scene in Mel Brooks’ famous movie Blazing Saddles. Someone punches a horse, things get ugly, and next thing you know, everybody is beating the crap out of everybody else. That’s kind of what happens in your small intestine, only there’s usually not a horse involved. So, given the likely absence of the either a horse or evil villain Hedley Lamarr, how does this battle royale within your small intestine happen?
It’s pretty simple really.When you eat Pop-Tarts, you get sick. Even though Pop-Tarts are mostly made of advanced plastic polymers, they do contain trace amounts of proteins commonly found in wheat, barley, and rye grains.
And, as everybody knows, wheat, barley, and rye grains are descendants of Thor, the great viking god of thunder. Thor was a raucous warrior, wreaking havoc and destruction wherever he went. After a while, Thor got bored of being fearsome and plundering things, so he settled down with former Beverly Hills 90210 actress Brittany Ashleigh Spelling. Together they had a whole bunch of kids – so many that they gave up on the idea of naming them individually and instead referred to them collectively as the gliadins. So you might say that the gliadins are little offshoots of wheat, barley, and rye grains. Still with me? Good, because I’m not.
Over the years, gliadins have taken up residence in Pop-Tarts all over the world. They also tend to congregate in other forms of yummy food like pizza that have ingredients derived from various grains. While very tiny and seemingly harmless, the gliadins are every bit as irritable and cantankerous as their father Thor – especially when they get eaten. That’s where the trouble starts.
When you eat gliadins, they follow a path straight to your guts – home of the villi.The villi are actually a tribe of miniature people begat by the Oompa Loompas. While Oompa Loompas have a reputation of being hard working and industrious, the villi have no such ambition, so they stand around with their hands in the air waiting for any food that may happen to drift by. Most villi are unemployed and prefer to stay that way as long as they can keep collecting free Pop-Tarts.
So far, so good, as the often cranky gliadins and villi have no real ill will against each other. As the gliadins float by, they might overhear mundane conversations like this:
“No, but I sure hope we have Brown Sugar and Cinnamon Pop-Tarts again. Mmmm.”
This perfectly civil process turns outright ugly when the auto-antibodies get involved. Antibodies have a chip on their shoulder as they resent having to work so hard fighting things like botulism and the common cold, while their cousins the villi don’t do much of anything. As children, the auto-antibodies were generally abused and picked on by the irritable gliadins. Now that they are all grown up, but still a little on the immature side, the auto-antibodies tend to fly off the handle whenever gliadins pass through their neighborhood. However, old fears are hard to overcome, so the auto-antibodies – more specifically the anti-tissue transglutaminase antibodies (tTGA’s) – can’t muster up the guts to confront the gliadins directly. Instead, they throw showy tantrums and beat up the mellow villi – who are much easier targets to bully. Once the tTGA’s start fighting the hapless villi, all hell breaks loose. Next thing you know, you’ve got antibodies all over the place chasing after villi, gliadins, and stray Pop-Tart crumbs.
So back to Blazing Saddles. By the time we get to the climactic cafeteria food fight scene, everybody is fighting everybody else and throwing food and furniture for no particular reason. The problem for you is that you own the cafeteria – and the cafeteria gets wrecked in this scene.
As you can imagine, the villi tend to tire of these free for all food fights and eventually go on strike. Beaten down, depressed, and disheartened, they won’t even bother to get their own food, much less do any work for you. You can eat as much as you want, but no goodness is getting through to you. It’s kind of like watching “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.” You can spend hours and hours viewing re-runs, but you most likely will not be registering your yacht in Monaco anytime soon. Ok – back to the villi picket line. In a show of union solidarity, everyone else in your body goes on strike. You get sick, tired, lethargic, and weak – kind of like having that 6am Monday morning feeling all the time. And you know how truly awesome that is.
I sincerely hope I didn’t lose you with all the complex medical and biological terminology. This has been a public service of Celiac Bites.
Join us next time where we will address the question…
“So you’re allergic to bread???”
Thor image: MrDonn.org
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 thought my last adventure to a pizza joint was rough, but I almost didn’t come back from this one. I found myself this week at the World Championships of Irish Dancing – Oireachtas Rince Na Cruinne for those of you who have been pestering me to dual post in Gaelic. I go to a lot of these things and, as a practicing Celiac, am usually relegated to Hershey bars from the gift shop for my sustenance. For days on end.
However, as you may have picked up from my previous posts, I am such a giver. It’s all about wanton disregard for my own health and safety to make life safer for you, the loyal readers of Celiac Bites. I take it as my ordained destiny to go
where no Celiac has gone before and find gluten free dining options – no matter what. Failure is not an option. Well, maybe failure is an option, and usually much easier, but it’s not as much fun to write about and doesn’t sound nearly so heroic.
In this weeks adventure, I attempted to find gluten free food options at The Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts, host of the competition. “Worlds” as insiders call it, is a big deal. Thousands and thousands of people come and go throughout the week so the food is “volume optimized.” You know, where armies of temporary catering people bring in truckloads of pre-made box lunches and chafing dishes. Hmmm, this was to be a challenge to find anything more than bottled water.
My first evaluation of the buffet lines from hell was not encouraging. Chips of all types were present in abundance. All types fatal to Celiacs that is. The chips that actually contained gluten were arranged in very tasteful fashion with those that were simply cross contaminated. The artistic arrangement showing a progression of near certain death to simple illness was quite creative, and while pleasing to the eye, it still offered me nothing to eat.
Next in line were the chafing dishes of hamburgers and hot dogs. For those of you who don’t know, chafing dishes were used for thousands of years to torture food into eternal states of lukewarm purgatory and limit the quantities of food eaten by guests at large banquets and dinner parties. Chafing dishes were banned worldwide (for the good of humanity) at The First Geneva Convention of 1864. Through a little known legal loophole insisted upon by the Belgians, legal chafing dish use by convention catering companies was grandfathered in. As a side note, this was also the first recorded use of an “earmark.”
Given the storied history of chafing dishes, I was not keen on exploring further, but this is Man vs. Celiac, so I did. Opening the lid to the hamburgers, my keenly trained eye detected subtle movement. On closer examination it turned out that the burger patties were actually rising. Apparently that phenomenon can occur when lowest bidder burger patties, made with 74% percent pure gluten meal filler, are exposed to lukewarm chafing dish heat for more than 30 consecutive hours. So that ruled out the burgers.
Towards the end of the insta-buffet, I finally spotted my opportunity for a safe, healthy, and gluten free dining experience. Coke. And of course Diet Coke. At least I could cover one of the four basic food groups. Coke is one of the food groups right?
Chalk up another successful mission and documented episode of Man vs. Celiac. So next time you’re at a convention, just make a beeline to the very end of the insta-buffet and find your satisfying and refreshing gluten free Coke. Or Diet Coke if you prefer.

Having been diagnosed myself about six years ago, I feel pretty qualified to offer up this diagnostic checklist: You fall asleep at your desk more than three times per day and now have bruises on your forehead from hitting the keyboard. The letter “H” is permanently stamped into your right eyebrow. You eat like there’s [...]

Sometimes you just have to respect your gut instinct for important decisions. (Pun intended) After about six months of dealing with all of the items on the surefire Celiac diagnostic checklist, I decided to pay a visit to the local gastroenterologist. That was fun. I’ll spare the details, but let’s just say that the local [...]

*** Warning! There is a better than even chance that the following post contains satirical content. The authors of this site cannot assume any liability for potential public backlash against Oompa Loompas, Mel Brooks movies, and/or the good people of Norway. Thank you for your understanding. *** Just been diagnosed? Don’t quite understand what Celiac [...]

Question (from pretty much everyone): “Are you allergic to bread?” Me (over and over again): “No, but I am allergic to being asked if I’m allergic to bread.” Next Question: “So can you eat donuts?” Me: “Can you eat rocks?” Celiac Disease is an autoimmune condition, not an allergy. There’s a big difference between the [...]

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.

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