Eating used to be such a simple procedure. If food was available and I wanted it, I ate it. The only ingredients I used to worry about were if dad ordered mushrooms on our pizza, or if mom tried to convince me to eat beets. I can barely remember what it was like, living so carefree. My friends and family now get to eat easily, and when I watch or hear about it, I become some combination of jealous and confused. I miss wheat.
I was playing a puzzle game on my iPad, and the picture I was solving was of a savory pie. The top crust was glossy and golden brown, sprinkled with sesame seeds. I swear I could feel it in my mouth, flaky at first, giving way to chewy and gluey as it went along. Gluten-free pie crust never gets that sticky stretchiness. It is maddening to think I will never experience that again. Some flour substitutes get close, like tapioca starch, but they don't quite make it.
I wonder sometimes if I would want a medication or a procedure that could make it possible to eat wheat again. It would take a lot of trust to take that first bite if I did go on some sort of miracle drug (that does not yet exist). I have a little fear that if I were able to eat it again, I would have no self control at first, and I'd just eat myself sick on all the breads, crusts, donuts, and whatever else I've missed for most of the last decade. It would be easy to overdo. But the stressed word there is "easy." I miss easy.
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