I found out tonight from Kuroneko-Hime’s Twitter stream that I’m not the only gluten intolerant person that gets bitter about Thanksgiving. Maybe it is because Thanksgiving meal is full of such wonderful memories of food and family (or at least food) that to miss out on it hurts. A lot. And when you’re (allegedly) pregnant and actually enjoy food (See: last pregnancy of food doom) it sucks SO MUCH when you can’t eat something delicious.
This Thanksgiving meal was fairly gluten sensitive. The gravy was made with corn starch instead of (wheat) flour. The stuffing was made outside of the turkey. I was able to eat mashed potatoes, ham, turkey, gravy, and sweet potato casserole. Looking at the effort it takes to make a Thanksgiving meal gluten free, you’d think that all gluten sensitive individuals rock out with their respective junk out over the meal. Hahaha ho ho. Because for most people, making stuffing OUTSIDE the body of the turkey and using corn starch is fucking impossible. (See: holiday meals that I cried during and left in the middle of thankyouverymuch)
*I’d like to make a side note here about stuffing: if you are from a place in the United States where people call it “dressing” please don’t ask my son for it and when he blinks at you in confusion give him the “You’re a retarded dumbass” look. We call it “stuffing” and you call it something else. The End.*
The problem began (and continues) with dessert. My MIL requested a list before we flew to Arkansas of the gluten free things that I would like her mother to purchase at Whole Foods before my arrival. I had no idea how to come up with a list. I didn’t want her to spend a lot of money, I don’t know what they usually eat, and I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. So I asked for some breakfast things (yogurt, granola, fruit, oatmeal), gluten free bread, eggs and tuna. My MIL reminded me about dessert so I asked for brownie mix. Easy to make and not expensive. At no time did anyone say, “Oh by the way, your brownie mix is going to be your dessert at Thanksgiving. Except Grandma is going to buy chocolate cookie mix instead. (A gross type that is 90% sugar and 10% gritty) And then no one is actually going to make it for you. And you’re not going to want to barge into the very busy kitchen to make it. And it will be too hot for you in the house anyway.”
So Thanksgiving dinner comes and goes. Pumpkin bars are eaten. Cheesecake cherry pie in a cupcake form factor is merrily NOM’ed. At one point during dessert, I am told: “There is cookie and brownie mix for you!! But no one made it.” Hey, thanks for that!! Adam then offered to make me cookies, at which point I subtly lost it and exclaimed that I did not WANT cookies. I did not ASK for cookies, and I was not interested at ALL in cookies. Because I am a spoiled fucking pregnant brat.
Throughout the evening Adam attempted to enter the kitchen to make me biscuits. Each time he was shooed away because someone else was doing something super important (like open heart surgery-what the fuck is more important than mah belly I ask you?) in the kitchen. Finally, at 11pm he made me biscuits with honey and butter. I had purchased the Gluten Free! Bisquick mix earlier at the local Walmart. (ZOMG. The WALMART. Post coming soon!) I thought maybe that me requesting biscuits with honey and butter would have spurred someone to action earlier in the day, but finally! it was done. And let me tell you how Adam made them with the “woe is me, my wife is a demanding cuntface windbag” look on his face. Because I asked him to mix in freshly zested scrotum (his own!) in the biscuits, of course.
For those of you that are considering making Bisquick’s biscuits, let me save you the trouble. Because those fuckers taste exactly like pancakes! in biscuit form. So if you’re craving the fuck outta gluten free pancakes, make them! If you’re craving biscuits, please don’t waste your time. Or small pieces of your husband’s scrotum.