When I gave up gluten, my sugar consumption dramatically flat-lined. So did my personality. Boy did I get titchy!
Iquit sugar. I quit sugar so you don’t have to. I went towards the light, even though you’re not supposed to, and here’s what I learned from my brief voyage to the other side: under no circumstances quit sugar. Do Not. Give Up. That Shiz.
It’s quite the thing now, denying yourself, isn’t it? Afterwards you’re supposed to feel cleansed, energised beatific. You might as well get your teeth whitened as well, because from now on you’re going to smile a lot, and look better in clothes.
Also, when you get up in the morning, your hair will fall naturally into hot-tonged ringlets. I don’t know why this should happen, but it does.
Best of all, you’re going to experience the weightlessness of the moral high ground. Like Buzz Aldrin trampolining on the moon in his marshmallow suit, you’re going to scissor-jump in slow motion, high over the heads of people who don’t eat as cleanly as you. Sugarless-ness is next to godliness, after all, and boy, are you going to proselytise! From now on, it’s going to be extremely important to tell everybody what you’re no longer willing to put into your mouth.
What? No, I didn’t quit sugar on purpose! It was an unintended consequence of giving up gluten. I didn’t want to have to give up gluten because it turns out that I really liked gluten. I liked gluten because it was best friends with sugar, and sugar is my soulmate.
But now I have coeliac disease (boring snoring) it turns out everything I enjoyed casually eating – cake, chocolate, French pastries, foil-wrapped pralines – are now off-limits.
When I gave up gluten, my sugar consumption dramatically flat-lined. So did my personality.
Boy, did I get titchy! Here’s the first outrage: being moved along by a traffic monitor outside school.
My front wheels were on some cross-hatched yellow lines. My back wheels were inside the drop-off zone. My kid was out of her seat-belt. I was out of the car, about to help my kid dismount. But no! This was not enough for the traffic monitor!
“Can you reverse, please?” she asked me, with what most people would classify as a winning smile. I can’t tell you how furious I was. My fury went off the chart and ripped a zig-zag across my field of vision. I was so angry I snapped my key-ring in my weaker right hand. As George might say, “Hulk gets big and green. Hulk smash.”
Soon afterward I went out for a meal with a friend. In deference to coeliac disease, we chose one of those restaurants which serve silver beet on hand-thrown pottery and charge you 25 bucks. Also: there are always hazelnuts.
Can I put a pin in this and tell you that as a coeliac, I must now rule out restaurant criticism as a sideline? This is because now I can only ever have the risotto or the grilled haloumi.
Who can properly review such tedious dishes? Grilled haloumi is like licking a salt brick, and all risottos taste the same. (Incidentally, don’t believe anybody who tells you that a risotto is complicated. It’s the easiest thing in the world! A chimp could do it!
All you do is lean a hip against the stove, scroll the Mail Online’s showbiz news on your phone and whenever it mentions a Kardashian-Jenner, give it a stir. Then add frozen peas at the end and grate half a block of cheese on top. Call it something Italian and stud it with olives if you must, but the sorry fact is, when push comes to shove, it’s boiled rice.)
Back to this restaurant. It only booked large groups and several tables were empty. When the maitre d’ informed us that we could not be seated, my companion said: “With all these empty tables?”
Granted, as a less assertive person, I would never have said this aloud. But this is what the general public does: the general public pushes its luck. We needle people; it’s our job. There are courses in how to deal graciously with the general public. This is why I will never work on the front line with the general public, especially now I’ve quit sugar, because I don’t want to get 10 years without parole.
The greeter’s reply was withering. “Thank you for pointing that out,” she said, with a coldness that could have frozen warts. Then she gave us such serious side-eye, that we left.
I was deeply shocked by her rudeness. The puff quite went out of my lungs. I couldn’t possibly eat their microgreens after that and may never go back.
Still, I felt a certain sympathy because it was beyond doubt that she, too, had quit sugar.
I’m back on it now. I love everyone!
“Here’s the first outrage: being moved along by a traffic monitor outside school... I can’t tell you how furious I was. My fury went off the chart.”