Enjoying gluten free pizza at Ernie's in New Haven, CT
Hello! My name is Jennifer Rafferty. I am a native of Northampton, Massachusetts, and a citizen of the world. Studies and work have allowed me to travel and live in some pretty neat places in this life, and I continue to feed my wanderlust even with my intolerance to gluten. I started this blog to share my journey with others and to learn about gluten-free living along the way. I hope you will join me as I explore this new landscape that has emerged on my map of the world since I became gluten free in November of 2007.
When I was child, I wanted to be a food critic. You know, some children say, “I want to be a fireman.” “I want to be a lawyer. “ I want to be a doctor.” Jennifer wanted to be a food critic. Now that’s pretty specialized and focused for a ten year-old girl. How could I have developed such a plan when most children my age were eating macaroni and cheese or burgers and fries at a fast food restaurant? Well, my father is the culprit. He is a foodie. Back in those days, I don’t remember such a word to describe him. Mom would just say he really liked food and he needed to watch his waistline if he was going to take eating so seriously.
Dad liked to reward my mother and me by taking us to those “fancy” restaurants on the weekend. While some families hiked up Mount Holyoke or went to the amusement park, we were in a car driving to some distant place to eat lunch or dinner in a restaurant. I didn’t mind it at all. I had a grand time eating oysters on the half shell, escargot, chicken Kiev, Chateaubriand, rabbit, frogs legs, soufflés, I ate it all. There was nothing that held me back when it came to trying new foods. So much did I enjoy eating that I read restaurant reviews and recipe books with the hope that I might be able to spend my life around food, and make some money while I ate. So, that was when I wrote to this food critic named Stendal. My father had a book of his with restaurant reviews for dining establishments in New York City. I sat down, composed a hand-written letter, like you still did back in the seventies, and I sent it off to this man, hoping I would receive a response or maybe even an offer to join him in a restaurant in New York.
Eventually, I did receive a response. The letter was typed up, and it gave me advice about this career path I wanted to follow. His advice was very realistic and somewhat disappointing for me since I had glamorized this job in my mind. In essence, he told me that being a food critic isn’t all fun and games. He talked about how there were some days he was frankly tired of eating and had to force himself to eat for the job. This didn’t sound as appealing anymore. It didn’t sound like my family outings with mom and dad where I could eat to my heart’s delight and then just nap in the back of the car while my father drove us back home. At ten years old, Stendal’s advice forced me to rethink this career choice.
In the past year, I have recalled those childhood memories more than a few times. I was such an intrepid girl with a menu in hand. My adulthood has been no different. No dish turned my stomach or scared me away when it came to food. Well, ok, maybe a few. Tortilla de Sacramonte. Rocky Mountain oysters. But there weren’t too many dishes I wouldn’t try. It’s no surprise then, that when I was diagnosed with gluten intolerance in November 2007, I thought my culinary adventures had come to an end. Without knowing much about the gluten-free diet when I was diagnosed, I sat in front of a very serious nutritionist at the Marino Center in Cambridge, Massachusetts and I listened to what sounded like a life sentence of eating brown rice and boiled vegetables. She indoctrinated me into a whole new lifestyle with a lecture on gluten and a read through a list of prohibited foods. All the while, I was half listening to her and imagining how I would ever make a trip another trip to Spain or Italy with this diagnosis. How would I be a foodie with dietary restrictions? Would I still be as much fun if I could only eat in Outback Steakhouse and Carrabba’s?
Ironically enough, as life would have it, being diagnosed with gluten intolerance has been like a rebirth of sorts. My new diet has not been a life sentence of bland and boring foods. Gluten-free living has brought me back to the kitchen and back to appreciating the food I put on the dinner table. Somewhere along the way, over time, I had forgotten about that little girl who loved good food and who wanted to be a famous food critic when she grew up. I think she had gotten lost in the hustle and bustle of her career, graduate school, and a hectic life in a culture where we don’t take time out for meals the way we should. Life has a funny way of always bringing us back to what we value most, even if we get distracted and put it aside for awhile. Who would have thought that a lifetime dietary restriction could feel like a new adventure in unchartered waters? Who would have thought that gluten intolerance would reawaken a childhood dream and inspire me to start this blog?
I hope you will join me on this journey.
Welcome to Gluten-Free Inspired.
