eat me gluten!

A few nights ago I was fortunate enough to be included in a Girls’ Night Out, which, like most Girls’ Nights Out, included a lot of maternal staring and about a hundred pounds of cheese.  I had so much fun it was crazy.

When I got home my boyfriend was like, “I put down the toilet seat almost every single day and you get to poop all over the air?”  Because I was farting uncontrollably.  Because not even a garbage disposal could have digested that much dairy.

Anyway the next day I was making lasagna and thought maybe I could make it up to my boyfriend by using all lactose-free products for the (approximately) 99% of the recipe that called for cheese (it turns out lactose-free cheese is expensive, so this ended up costing me one million dollars).

The only stuff the store had was this stuff by “Daiya,” which I thought sounded like the name of some female rap artist.  (Probably one Arnold Ellie would like.)  Daiya was also like, “YO YO YO, I’M GLUTEN-FREE”, which is why I’m including her here.*

Thank goodness I put some pieces of Daiya in my mouth before I made a whole lasagna out of her, because doing so ensured that I would never make lasagna out of Daiya.  She looked like a paler shade of Guinea Pig pellets and tasted like salt vomit.  I tried her melted to see if it made any difference and she tasted like glue boogers.  I went back to the store for Lactaid, made lasagna the regular way, and when my boyfriend came home I asked if he wanted to try a weird vegan cheese thing.

“It’s super gross,” I warned, holding out the Daiya bag.

“Sure,” he said.  He popped a handful of shreds into his mouth, gave me a hurt look, and went to the bathroom, where he stayed for a while.

When he came back I asked him if he was okay and he shook his head.  ”I almost vomited,” he told me solemnly.  ”I spit it into the toilet and then I did the Listerine.  Babe.”  He took me by the shoulders and looked deep into my eyes.  ”I don’t want it in my house.”

I waited while he removed it from the premises, and for the rest of the night watched as my boyfriend ate Daiya-free lasagna almost continuously.

“I need real cheese in my mouth,” he explained.  ”If it’s not in my mouth I’m still thinking about the other thing.”

And then, obviously, he turned into the one with gastrointestinal issues, and I realized maybe this is just what it’s like, living together.

“But I still think you’re sexy,” I promised him.  And I meant it.




*for the record: yes, all cheese is gluten-free.  Just like all macaroons are gluten-free.