...there were two digestively challenged individuals who happened to stumble into each others lives. Each one a slave to his and her eating difficulties, and each one ready for a change. He- brutally gluten intolerant, and she- allergic to dairy. This story begins in Israel where we met. Our love story was a whirlwind, as many love stories are. We found ourselves ferociously taking in the local food- eating in restaurants more often than not. There were occasions when he got 'glutened' or I, 'dairied' (and sometimes both simultaneously). For months we put our faith in waiters, never sure what the outcome would be. After a while it became apparent that we could no longer trust food we had not cooked in our own kitchen. We began buying fruits and vegetables at the local market, and whipping dishes up ourselves. This next part of the story I like to call "The Great Revelation". This man can cook! We started out cooking together but as time wore on I found myself demoted to sous chef, and then to eager spectator. Now, I often find myself sitting on the couch while he cooks, chiming in with an attentive "is there anything I can help with?" (The answer is usually "no thanks, honey"). So, this is my contribution. The masterpieces he creates are often without recipe. They begin with him tossing several odd ingredients into a pot, and somehow emerge as delicious works of culinary art.
So, here I am- taking a stab at writing down recipes, saving them as a cook book of sorts for our future reference. I want to savor each tasty morsel and be able to look back and remind him which ones I would love for him to cook up again!
This is post number one! Coming up next- something delectable!
