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100 Days Without Gluten - Day #9: Quiche In Canada

Posted Jun 23 2009 6:55pm
It's a lovely Saturday morning and I've got a lot to get down before everyone else rolls out of bed and starts texting me to come out and play. I'm at Petals Panache in Wilton Manors, which houses the main office for Stonewall Street Festival, my newest volunteer endeavor. I've volunteered to coordinate the parade for Saturday night and the vendors for the Sunday festival. The event is only 17 days away and the coordinators I've replaced haven't really done anything so I'm using my weekends to play catch up.

I get through most of the morning and afternoon fueled only by determination and Redbull Cola but now I must reluctantly take a break to nourish my body. I wander over to That Place By Alibi where they make those smoothies and salads and such. I order my usual, grilled chicken caesar salad with a scoop of carribean chicken salad on top. It's delicious. Exactly what I was craving. 20 minutes later, I'm in the bathroom throwing it up. I had forgotten that creamy caesar dressing uses gluten as a thickening agent. Hopefully, I won't make this mistake again.

I go home to sleep off the excitement of the day and then decide to head to Montreal, aka Palm Beach Gardens, to hang out with the latinos. I forget to have dinner so I spend a good portion of the trip praying to the baby Jesus that these Puerto Ricans like to eat. I'm in luck and there is a very delightful spread of hummus, crackers, wings, and my all time favorite, mini quiches. I figure, I don't really know many people here so I might as well just release the fat girl and hunker down at the food table. A dozen chicken wings and a platter of mini quiches later, I'm feeling a little strange. Damnit, I think to myself... quiche has crust, crust has gluten, gluten is bad.

I'm pretty good for the rest of the night, the red wine helped, and surprisingly feel decent the following day, the mimosas helped. It wasn't until day 3 when I couldn't remove myself from my bed in the morning for work that I really paid the price for my mistake. As I laid there feeling like Goldie Hawn from Death Becomes Her after she's been shot in the stomach by Meryl Streep, I was forced to add "mini quiches" to the list of delicious things that I will never eat again.
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