John and I have gone gluten-free since the beginning of January. We aren't hard-core, avoiding things like malt flavoring and chicken bouillon, but nevertheless it has been an adjustment. I had been wondering about the diet for John for a little while, because it can help children with problems like his. So when my doctor suggested I try it for my tricksy tummy, it seemed like a great time to start.
In the past month, I have learned that wheat -- or gluten -- must be some kind of chemical marvel, provided by God to make cooking easy. To attempt to replicate its qualities in a baked good requires at least three ingredients. There's no single thing like it. Gluten-free recipes call for a mixture of a) one or more grainy flours, b) one or more starchy flours, and c) the mystical zanthan gum.
You'll never guess what zanthan gum is. When I was pregnant with Liam and could not tolerate wheat, I refused to make gluten-free baked goods because I refused to use zanthan gum. (I was nauseous and it was so easy to get grossed out). Zanthan gum is dehydrated bacteria -- the kind that begins to form on your veggies when they get old and slimy. Or least a byproduct or something. Anyhow, I wanted to vomit thinking about it.
But now I'm not pregnant, and I also have a 6 year old who is expecting his pancakes and bread and bagels, and I husband who said I tortured him last time. So there's a canister of zanthan gum in my pantry. And ooooo did I just make some delicious scones using it.
I'm still not happy with my pizza crusts yet. But I guess my gut is happy.
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