It was also on my
second day of touring Ireland that I had that first moment of fear that is so
familiar to those with celiac disease: I might actually not be able to find
something to eat. I hadn't had time for breakfast that morning and didn't have
enough snacks to last the entire day.
The tour bus had
stopped off in the small village of Cong for lunch. I got off the bus and
looked around worriedly. Small, quaint villages may be great for taking
pictures, but typically not-so-great for finding gluten free food. And when I
say Cong is a small village, I assure you, it's even smaller than what you're
imagining. I circled around the entire village, walking slowly and taking
pictures (of course) in 10 minutes. So when I walked into the biggest (though
that isn't saying much) and busiest little café I could find and asked one of
the waitresses if they had anything gluten free, I wasn't feeling hopeful. But
then she handed me the normal menu, informed me they had gluten free bread
(which turned nearly all of the sandwiches into viable options) and proceeded
to list off which soups I could have and which ones I couldn't. I was so
excited that I ordered a soup and a sandwich, more than I could actually eat in
one sitting.
"We have some
gluten free desserts too," she said. A gluten free brownie? Don't mind if
I do.
Later that night,
back in Dublin, I found a sushi place that offers gluten free sushi. Good sushi
too, not the kind that leaves you wondering if food poisoning is gonna kick in.
Then the next day I had pizza and risotto! I was so thoroughly impressed with
Ireland's gluten free offerings and overall celiac disease awareness. Honestly,
if I can convince my boyfriend, I'm kind of considering moving there
eventually, despite the Catholicism.
It's hard to really
get across to someone who doesn't have celiac how being in Ireland and having
so many options made me feel. Celiac is something I constantly have to think
about. It looms over my entire life and influences everything I do. And because
food is such an integral part of society and culture, everywhere I go, I'm used
to being the pariah. Ireland was the first time in eight years (since my
diagnosis) that I wasn't the odd one out. Strangely, I actually felt… normal.
It was nice.
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