Beautiful California poppies
When I order in a restaurant, I prefer to tell wait staff that I am celiac rather than saying gluten free. My concern is that servers will slot me with carb-avoiding, fad-diet folks rather than as someone with an autoimmune illness. Identifying myself as celiac can also lead to a teachable moment for many servers, even though one would think they’d be knowledgeable about food related issues. Strangely, many celiacs find California a place where gluten free/carb avoiding is understood but celiac and cross contamination much less so.
From the LA area where our friends had scouted excellent, safe food choices for me, we traveled to Palm Springs to visit with our aunt and uncle. Having stayed a
little too long one early evening enjoying their company, we missed our dinner reservation so decided to take our chances at Las Consuelas, a well-known Mexican restaurant a few blocks from our hotel. This restaurant, right in downtown Palm Springs, is a popular drinking stop, especially on Saturday nights, among the over 50-bad-bar-behavior crowd. Our hour’s wait for a table wasn’t pretty, though it was kind of creepily entertaining.
Once seated at a table, I identified myself as celiac. The server puzzled a moment, said “Yeah, ok” and then quickly said “You are what?”
He understood gluten free, retrieved a GF menu for me that was filled with chicken, pork, and beef items but no fish. When I asked if the kitchen could grill a piece of fish for me, he first said no and then said he’d ask. He was gone a few seconds before coming back with a firm no. The kitchen, too busy, did not want the bother.
In some ways, I get it. It is high season in the desert, this is a packed bar and restaurant and no one feels the need to accommodate. However in my food world, an undereducated, unmotivated server and an uncooperative kitchen can serve up a celiac disaster.
I carefully cobbled together a bit of a meal –a bed of lettuce and beans with tomatoes, onions, and avocado on top, a tortillaless tostada probably safe from cross contamination. I vowed to do better the next day.
Breakfast is a tricky meal for me since typical foods are glutinous and/or dairy. I’ve learned to compromise by eating scrambled egg whites (hence the veganish piece of my diet) and fruit if nothing else is available but gluten free protein bars we’ve toted.
I’m lucky because I travel with R, my biggest supporter and advocate and a guy who likes to educate food service workers about celiac.
One morning while ordering scrambled egg whites to bring back to the room, R discovered that the Hilton offered gluten free toast. He found his teachable moment when the kitchen worker started to place the gluten free bread in the same toaster as the wheat based bread thereby contaminating the gluten free bread. The workers had no idea about cross contamination, which of course is not an issue if someone is following a carb-avoiding gluten free diet but is a big deal to a celiac. Luckily, these workers were willing to learn something new about food safety.
Gorgeous steamed mussels. Thank you Pacifica.
However, not all food options are grim in the desert. We ate a stellar meal at Pacifica Seafood Restaurant in Palm Desert. I wished I taken more photos. The kitchen and staff understand celiac and offer lots of wonderful options and have no problem cooking with olive oil rather than butter or making other modifications. We feasted on crab, mussels, prawns, and scallops. Yum.
I consider my recent experiences a warm up for our upcoming trip to Japan, a place known for hidden gluten in the food. We’ll be armed with a detailed celiac card and lots of safe, freeze dried food, just in case.