Flavor-Blind

Tonight at the Restaurant I was reminded of an odd reality that is now part of my life and will be forever. All of the serving staff were tasting a few dishes from the menu to review their ingredients and flavor profiles, so that we can better recommend them to our guests. But none of these dishes were gluten-free, so I was unable to taste them. Instead, I smelled the dishes intently, compared their appearance to other foods that I have eaten in an attempt to identify their taste, and asked my coworkers "what does is taste like? Is it spicy? Is it sweet? Is it salty? Savory?". I relied on them to be my eyes and ears...or really my tongue...to experience the food, similarly to how a blind person relies on the descriptions of others to experience their visual surroundings.

One realization I've had is that it can be very difficult to accurately describe a flavor with words; it's often more effective to compare the tastes of two foods that are similar, since each person has a different experience of how foods taste, as well as what words mean. The other realization is that EATING is a way of relating to people that I am now often excluded from. For example, it has been over 2 years since I have had a beer, and I can't say that I was much of a connaisseur before being GF. I can't very well imagine how different types of beers taste since they are flavors I have never experienced. Yet I am constantly asked to describe different beers to Restaurant patrons and really have no idea what the words coming out of my mouth are.

Food plays such a central role in shared culture: to experience another culture is to taste its cuisine; to feel at home is to eat the dishes your mother cooked for you growing up, or your grandmother made for the entire family every holiday. An ex-boyfriend from the South used to talk about all of his favorite foods (mostly fried ;)) that I just "had to try someday". He wanted to share some of his culture with me, but those were things I could never experience with him (and now it's a moot point). I also sometimes think about how if I return to Paris (I lived there for a summer during college) I won't be able to enjoy the foods that I found to be so essential to the French experience: brioche, crepes, baguettes, etc.

Thankfully (I think) I DO know what so many of these foods taste like since I was not gluten-free until 2 years ago. I HAVE had a crepe from Paris, I HAVE eaten a hamburger with a REAL bun. These sensory experiences are still stored in my memory, and I can recall them whenever I need to relate to something that is now off-limits. This is the double-edged sword of those "would you rather" questions: is it better to have been born blind and never know what sights you're missing, or is it better to have been able to see the world and lose sight later in life? Some think that's torture, others would feel gratitude. I know I feel both!

Of course it is also becoming increasingly possible to replicate gluten-containing foods with gluten-free flours and grains (although it is very difficult to get it right), so it's not the most drastic loss in the world. But what an odd revelation that is shown to me day after day and I have yet to completely accept: that my disease comes with many types of exclusions that were not part of my life before CD.