Elderflower Pressé

I've always had an unnatural passion for all things British. When I was 14, and saw the BBC production of Romeo and Juliet, I swooned — in the swoony swoon way that only a 14-year-old girl can do — for the young man who played Romeo. I swear, I started reading Shakespeare only because Patrick Ryecart was so cute. (Luckily, I kept reading for other reasons.) The Beatles, Brideshead Revisited, bangers and mash — if it was British, I loved it.

After living in Great Britain twice, my passion became calmed when swirled with the real-life details of maddening traffic on the South Circular Road, only 3 television channels (and one of them played a test card of a girl with a clown from midnight until 9), and the not-pleasant surprise of apple pies baked without sugar. At 16, my vision of the place matured beyond swoony swoon.

I love all things British even more for that, now.

My friend Kairu loves the British things too. Last week, for a party, she brought bottles of this Elderflower Presse by Belvoir Fruit Farms. She admitted that she first read about elderflower cordial in a British novel she bought at the airport to keep herself occupied. I'm glad that she had to read a trashy book. That means I've experienced this drink.

Slightly fruity, with a hint of citrus, this drink is subtle. It's not soda. It's not sparkling water. It's not overly sweet. It is delicious. Elderflowers feel very British and Victorian, don't they? Their taste, however, is quite modern. Floral and faint, not enough to assert, just enough to please. I'm hooked.

Danny doesn't drink and I rarely do. Finding interesting non-alcoholic beverages is somewhat difficult, however. This elderflower cordial has the feeling of fine wine, without the alcohol.

And of course, it's gluten-free.

Belvoir Fruit Farms makes a series of appetizing-sounding drinks: cranberry pressé, lime and lemongrass pressé, and cucumber-mint-and-geranium blossom pressé.

Of course, shipping from the UK can be pricey here in the US. Our friend Kairu buys her elderflower pressé by the case at Big John's PFI, here in Seattle.

If you try some, let us know where you found it and what you think.

French Meadow Bakery "flour" tortillas

Like I said, everyone sends us brownies. (Here's a secret: it's really not that hard to make good gluten-free brownies.) They're all quite good, but they start to taste the same. When I open the latest box, I long for something new.

How about "flour" tortillas?

We love corn tortillas around here, particularly the ones we make by hand. And white wheat flour tortillas are a gringo invention anyway, right? But sense memory says that sometimes a quesadilla should be made with flour tortillas. These white tortillas are newly made by French Meadow Bakery in Minnesota. This organic bakery makes all kinds of glutenous goods, but their gluten-free production is certified by the Gluten-Free Certification Organization. Their chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and macaroons are quite good.

But these tortillas are something else.

Danny ate nearly all of them himself, making quesadillas, one after the other.

French Meadow Bakery
1000 Apollo Road
Eagan, MN 55121
651-286-7861
1-877-No-Yeast

Blackbird Bakery

The FedEx man and UPS woman know the way to our house now. Nearly every day we find a package of gluten-free foods on our porch when we return home.

We're happy that so many small businesses are trying to make it by creating gluten-free baked goods. However, I can't tell you about all of them. Some of them are wretched — dry as dust, overly sweet, a wreck in a plastic package. So when good ones land in our laps, I'm happy to share.

The baked goods at Blackbird Bakery are lovely. So is the website. Karen Morgan, who began the bakery, is an artist with a husband who was trained in classic French cuisine. For years, before turning to commercial baking, Karen kept the website The Art of Gluten-Free Cooking. Now, her bakery in Austin is turning out beautiful baked goods.

We liked everything we tasted, including the scones and biscotti. But I particularly liked these millet power bars, in part because no other bakery seems to be making them. (Everyone sends us brownies.) A little like a rice krispie bar, without all that sweetness, and millet mixed in.

I'd like to keep some of these in the car for those in-between times, when there's nothing gluten-free to be found in public places.

Blackbird Bakery
512.236.0707

Gluten-Free Oats

The first year after I was diagnosed, I bemoaned the fact I could no longer eat oats. After years of eating steel-cut oats every day, I had to cut myself off. Strangely, I missed my morning bowl of oatmeal more than baguettes. I resigned myself to never eating them.

Again, how much things have changed.

Now, not only does Bob's Red Mill make gluten-free oats, but commercial baked goods made with oat flour and oat flakes are starting to show up on shelves around here. There are so many varieties of gluten-free oats available that we have our choice.

Lately, we've been enjoying Gluten-Free Oats around here. The oats taste great. The story is sweeter.

The son of the family who grows and manufactures these oats was diagnosed with celiac at the age of two. His parents didn't let him wheat, of course, but he ate the oats they grew in another field. Sometimes he grew sick. No one could figure out why. Later, when he was doing his Future Farmers of America project on no-bake cookies, he realized that oats are contaminated by growing in fields next to fields of wheat. (Those plants like to mix and mingle, apparently.) He searched for a source of oats he could eat. After finding one, he rolled the oats and packaged them himself, so that other local celiacs could eat oats. (Future farmer indeed!) This small endeavor grew into a family business, pushed forward further when his father was diagnosed with celiac too.

I met both father and son this weekend, at the GIG conference in Seattle, and they were utterly charming. And healthy.

Their oats are pretty darned tasty, too.

Gluten-Free Oats
578 Lane 9 • Powell, WY 82435
(307) 754-2058 • Fax (516) 723-0924

Bariani olive oil

These days, we don't have the same luxuries I lived by when I was single.

In my book, I wrote about sampling expensive bottles of olive oil, slowly, and sipping them in tastings on warm spoons. After much deliberation, I bought bottles the price of two tickets to the movies. (And we all know ridiculously expensive those are these days.) Well, I haven't been to a movie theater since Little Bean was born. And we're not buying expensive bottles of olive oil much anymore.

Certainly, the economy has its effect on all of us. But more importantly, I have learned more about food than I once knew. Before I met the Chef, I glugged olive oil onto everything, sautéeing all my food in those bottles quickly emptying of precious liquid. He gently led me to the bottles of canola, sunflower, and grapeseed oil instead. And back in the thick of making dishes all day long for the cookbook, the Chef and I bought giant cans of pure olive oil -- not as good as extra virgin, by any means, but serviceable for all the cooking we were doing.

Still, when a great olive comes through the door, we certainly don't say no.

Last month, Anita and Cameron from Married with Dinner came over for lunch. (I know. How lucky were we?) When they came in, both of them went right for Little Bean. But not before handing us a small bag, with a jar of rosemary salt from Eatwell Farms and a bottle of Bariani olive oil.

Oh, we love them. (I mean Anita and Cam. But also, those two ingredients.)

Bariani olive oil is something special. Crushed from Mission and Manzanilla olives, this is Italian olive oil grown outside Sacramento. The Bariani family comes from just outside of Lombardy, in northern Italy, and they brought traditional methods and a stubborn insistence on doing things right.

Thank you for those qualities.

This is such a lovely oil. It's green and silken, not assertive or peppery. Warm and robust, the Bariani olive oil tastes of hot summers and cool evenings, like the handmade press that crushes the fruit, like family business and the green drizzle of olive oil on good mozzarella at the end of a hot day of work. And really, given all this (and because we don't have to pay importing costs), Bariani olive oil is our favorite olive oil of the moment. Slightly more expensive than the cheap jugs at grocery stores, Bariani Olive Oil is pretty darned affordable for such fine oil.

Since olives don't grow in western Washington, we'll call this our local olive oil.

What is your favorite olive oil at the moment? The one that you can afford?

Secret Stash Sea Salts

Remember the days when salt meant only the fine white stuff that poured from the blue cylinder? When I was a kid, I had never heard of sea salt, much less tasted sea salt flavored with coconut marsala.

Thanks goodness I'm not a kid anymore.

A few months ago, a friend walked into our home and stuffed my hands with little jars of colored salts. "Here. You have to try these!" In the midst of welcoming people, I nodded and smiled, looking askance at what appeared to be specimen jars filled with odd flavors. The salts were shoved to the back of the counter by the pile of arriving food and people's drinks splayed haphazardly about the kitchen. It was only days later that I remembered the salts.

"Bloody Mary?" I said to the Chef.
"That sounds weird," he harumphed. (He has a sort of stubborn wall up about new food sometimes, which I can tumble down, eventually. And it also allows me to use harumph as a verb.)
"Yeah, but think about it. Tomato, celery, cayenne pepper. You love those."
"Hm."

A few days later, I opened the Nicoise olive salt. Give me an olive, any time. I was poaching eggs for breakfast. At the last moment, I crushed some of the salt onto my eggs, leaving the Chef's bare. He noticed, right away.
"Want a taste of mine?"
He loved it. So did I.

Every salt in the Secret Stash collection, at least the ones we have tried, brings a surprise kick to the foods we make, a sort of ohhhhhh! in the mouth. That's because they're not flavored salts. They're infused with real food: vanilla beans; lemon zest; dried lavender; cumin; fresh pineapple juice; ground cardamom. Because the folks who make these salts are dedicated to doing this right, they don't use any preservatives or un-recognizeable ingredients. And no anti-caking agents, which is good news for those of us who are gluten-free. These are safe.

The people behind Secret Stash? Two folks, partners who worked in a Seattle restaurant that has now folded. Even in these economic times, they are trying hard to do what they love, live a life of food, and make a few moments taste better. Hm. Sounds like someone else I know. Of course we like them.

But the salts really are the story. The Chef ended up liking the Bloody Mary salt, after all. We've sprinkled a bit of vanilla salt on top of creme brulees for a surprising bite. I like lavender rosemary salt and jasmine rice. But I always go back to the nicoise olive, especially on the top of bread I've baked, just before pulling it out of the oven.

Food just tastes better with salt.


For those of you in Seattle, the Secret Stash folks have a stand at the Sunday Ballard farmers' market. If you're not from around here, then you can order on their website.

gluten-free Os cereal

Little Bean loves to eat.

Of course, we were hoping this would be so. She has been in the kitchen with us since she was a mere mite. Nearly everything we cook we waft under her nose, so she can experience what we are eating through smell. But there are no guarantees in this. She could have easily decided that solid foods were scary and put off the chewing until later.

(And nothing says this avid eating of nearly everything we give her will last.)

She still doesn't have her first tooth, so the chewing is pretty gummy at the moment. Thick purees still seem best. (However, she did have some roasted pork shoulder, chopped into a paste that she seemed to really love.) Roasted sweet potatoes, crushed-up prunes, fresh avocado — these all make her giggle. Right now, they are enough.

But I was just starting to wonder — what are we going to do without Cheerios?

Right now, we don't know if Little Bean can eat gluten. You see, there is no accessible test to determine these matters yet, as far I can tell. There is a genetic test, to see if she has the genes that can lead to celiac. But those tests are expensive, and we just can't afford it. Even if she has the genes, she could go years eating gluten before the celiac triggers, through something mysterious like an injury, or puberty. So we don't know.

The image of giving her gluten ("Here, honey, have a hamburger with all the fixings.") feels like handing her the keys to the car when she's three. I don't want to do it.

But if she can gluten, I want her to experience all the food in the world she can eat. I want her to eat with relish and gusto, giggling as she reaches for another bite. That's how she eats now. I want that to continue.

The only plan we have, at the moment, is to wait. No seven-month-old will languish if she doesn't have barley cereal. Our doctor has told us that he receives an update on celiac and living gluten-free every single day, from the medical journals he reads and the conferences he attends. Maybe, by the time she is a year old, there will be a clearer path.

However, what were we going to do without little o-shaped cereal, just the right size for her fingers to grab on their own off her highchair?

Now, I don't have to think about it. The good folks at Nature's Path have made Organic Whole O's. Organic brown rice flour, organic corn flour, organic granulated sugar cane juice, pomegranate juice concentrate, and sea salt — these are the only ingredients. They're a heck of a lot healthier than those little chocolate chip cookies cereal. (Remember those? The only time I ate them was at 4:30 in the morning with a friend, because he had no other food in the house, and we were drunk. And I still thought they were awful.) And I actually love the crisp, oh-s0-slightly sweet taste of the Whole O's.

This is a cereal I'll be happy to give Little Bean. Just as soon as she has teeth.

(Any day now. Come on, little one. Pop that tooth out, please?)

GaGa sherbet

I'm sorry to so easily fall into the pun the makers of this delicious concoction clearly want us to use, but we are honestly gaga about this stuff.

Do you know why I don't have a photograph of the creamy, tart lemon goodness in a bowl, slightly melting, so as to entice you to bite into it? Because the Chef and I ate all four pints the company sent us before we even thought of photographing them. Nights in a row, we'd settle down to watch Jon Stewart as Little Bean slept, and he'd look at me and say, "Do you want some of that sherbet stuff?" Of course. And we'd dig our two spoons into the carton, determined to not eat the entire pint, and failed every time.

I'm lucky I could save the carton for photographing.

Is it sherbet? No. Sherbet contains milk, but not cream, and not enough to call it ice cream. But proper ice cream contains eggs, and this does not. So it's a hybrid, something in between, all its own.

Just call it amazing and put some in your freezer. It won't last long.

"Creamy lovely goodness," the Chef just said, when I asked him to describe it. "It should be illegal." Tell truth, he's so obsessed with GaGa that he's making a citrus sherbet in the kitchen right now, trying to replicate it. He's good, but I don't know if he'll do it, right off the bat. There's some magic elixir in this, something mysterious that makes you eat an entire pint of the creamy sweetness in one sitting.

All the ingredients are natural, not indecipherable. The lemon flavor really does taste like lemon, with a puckery tartness. It's a family-begun business (the name comes from the nickname for the grandmother). And it's gluten-free.

Right now, GaGa is not available in Seattle. If you live here, ask your grocer for it, now. If you live somewhere where GaGa is available, then what are you doing reading this? Run out and buy some now.

GaGa Frozen Dessert

gluten-free ice cream cones

On the last day of our honeymoon in Italy, the Chef and I stopped for one more gelato in Rome. After savoring every bite of that pistachio in a cone, I looked at the countertop and stopped breathing for a moment. "Il Cono per Tutti" — a cone for all. A gluten-free ice cream cone, in a gelato place, in Rome.

I ordered another gelato, just to have the experience.

And when we left, I thought, "Of course, I'm only going to find something like that in Italy."

So, imagine my surprise last weekend, when I stood in a dinky grocery store in Burien (a city just south of Seattle), looked at the shelves, and stopped breathing for a moment. "Gluten-free ice cream cones?!" I shouted out to the Chef. I grabbed one immediately.

We were waiting, in that store near the airport, for the Chef's brother, who was stocking up on groceries for his trip to Whistler. We had never been in that store. We might never have seen these.

A few nights later, I had the chance to try one. The Chef and I curled up on the couch to watch a movie, and I had the sudden urging for an ice cream cone. Not expecting much, I crunched down on the shell after licking around the vanilla.

"Oh good god," I blurted out.

"What?" the Chef worried.

"This ice cream cone. It actually tastes good."

After watching me exclaim about the sweetness from the demerara sugar (no high fructose corn syrup), the way the cone didn't shatter at the slightest touch, and the joys of eating an ice cream cone again, for the first time in years, the Chef sat up and walked to the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" I asked him.

"I can't stand it any longer. I have to have an ice cream cone too."

He has pronounced them delicious, much better than the tasteless cones we all ate as kids. (Think scary clown on the box.) These taste like real food.

I never did have an ice cream craving while I was pregnant. But thanks to these cones, I have one now.


These are new to the market, produced by Edward and Sons Trading Company. I hear they're soon to be available widely, but I can't promise where you'll find them. Ask around. They're worth the search. It seems the Gluten-Free Trading Company has some available online right now.

gluten-free, dairy-free cookie dough "ice cream"

When I lived in Manhattan, I didn't spend many evenings at home. Evenings in little clubs on the Lower East Side, good sushi, and movies with friends at the Lincoln Plaza cineplex meant I came home in time to eat something and fall into bed most nights. New York is not where you live if you're a homebody.

But when Sharon moved into my apartment, we found ourselves, at least once a week, exhausted from all our adventures. That's when we'd take the elevator down to the lobby, walk across the street, and saunter into our corner bodega.

"I'm getting Cherry Garcia. What are you getting?"

I never knew. Sometimes I'd buy that too. Or Chunky Monkey. Often, it was cookie dough, though.

We'd hold the cold pints in our hands and walk into the warm night air. Up the elevator, and into her room, where we'd sit on her queen-sized bed and watch whatever bad tv presented itself on cable that night. We needed the down time.

There's something funny about my friend Sharon. She's fit and thin, in better shape than most people I know. But she has never, to my knowledge, eaten a pint of ice cream in more than one sitting. When we sat on that bed, watching movies, she always dove and scraped, swirling the spoon and lifting it to her mouth with passionate alacrity. Me? I took small bites, and tried to control myself.

She always enjoyed hers more.

But somehow, the guilt of eating an entire pint of ice cream in one sitting always stopped me from making all that goodness disappear immediately.

Until I found Purely Decadent Cookie Dough, that is.

The good folks at Turtle Mountain sent me some of their dairy-free treats to try. I have to admit -- dairy-free ice cream didn't appeal to me much. I don't have to avoid dairy. Why try the imitation stuff?

But there was gluten-free cookie dough involved. And that I don't see very often.

So I tried a spoonful. And then another. The icy part felt rich in the mouth. And the cookies? Oh, I hadn't eaten cookies in ice cream since one of those pints at the bodega.

I'm going to admit this — I ate the entire pint in one sitting.

And every time I've bought this non-dairy treat, I have done it again. That's why I don't buy it that often. Because it's clear I'm going to be imitating Sharon and sitting on the bed with my spoon, diving and scraping, and making it all disappear.

How often does gluten-free and dairy free taste like this?

Chebe focaccia

I first tasted this lovely gluten-free focaccia on a bitter cold night in Breckenridge, Colorado. Lovely as the Chef's small hometown is, it didn't strike me, at first, as the hotbed of gluten-free eating. How wrong I was. Even the tiniest grocery store stocked items new to me on their spare shelves. We picked up a package of this and took it to the Chef's sister's house to make with dinner.

I've been buying packages ever since.

Chebe makes wonderfully decent mixes of gluten-free bread products. Their main flour is manioc, and the bread is meant to remind us of the Brazilian "pao de queijo" (the little cheese puffs I first encountered in New York, at Puff and Pao). With a slightly coarser texture than most gluten-free flours, manioc has a distinctive taste: slightly nutty, with a tiny tang. I love that Chebe has dedicated itself to only making mixes with this flour. They've cornered the manioc market.

I like the breadsticks. I haven't had the courage to try the cinnamon rolls yet, but other people have told me to stop being so silly. And the original bread mix, the one that makes the cheese puffs, works every time.

But I like the focaccia best. Yesterday, I spontaneously stirred up some batter from the package sitting in the cupboard, on the shelf above the coffee. When I pulled it warm out of the oven, the Chef remarked how good this chewy bread with a solid crunch on the edges would taste with a couple of eggs over easy. But we never made it that far. We just ate the entire little focaccia bread over the time it took us to read the newspaper, tearing off hunks of the fragrant herby snack and talking slowly. "This reminds me of good sausages," he said.

He's right.

I might just make some more tomorrow.

O.N.E. coconut water

The internet cracks me up.

A couple of months ago, I wrote a little post on the original site about fruit salad. Tucked into the headnote of how to prepare the salad was a little description of coconut water:

The other day, I found a can of coconut water at one of my favorite grocery stores, and so I brought it home. It's light, barely sweet, so refreshing when cold. When I poured a bit over the fruit, everything seemed to come together more completely. It's not necessary, by any means, but you might like to try it too.

The next morning, when I woke up, I found an email from someone at O.N.E., saying she had read that little description and was delighted I liked coconut water. Would I like a case of theirs to try?

Now, I have to say, the alacrity with which this happened made me laugh. And I'm a little skeptical about free stuff. But the email was personal, and we were heading into the heat of summer. Sure, why not?

I had no idea how handy this coconut water would become.

Before the Chef and I went to the hospital to meet Little Bean, we packed a cooler full of food and drinks. I had been told we wouldn't be able to find gluten-free food from the hospital dining service. (This was erroneous information. They had a gluten-free menu.) So we planned ahead. On the hottest days of the summer, I had drunk a couple of the coconut waters. Everything felt refreshed in me. So we packed the last of the case in the cooler.

After my surgery, I heaved with nausea at times. The iv drip hurt my hand. I felt woozy and in pain. As soon as I remembered the electrolytes in the coconut water, I asked for one. Ten minutes later, I felt clear again.

And in the succeeding days, when everything felt woozy and in pain, while we stayed with our daughter in the ICU, I drank the remaining coconut waters, trying to be well.

I won't say these healed me. They just felt cold and good against my lips. There wasn't much pleasure to those days. Drinking these was one of the few sensory moments that remains untouched with fear.

They may have sent me a free case, but I'm buying more for myself.

Mariposa Bakery pizza

Do you live in the Bay Area? Gluten-free? Are you missing pizza?

Well, then for goodness' sake, head over to Mariposa Bakery.

When we were in Oakland, I was utterly thrilled to make an appearance for the book at this marvelous bakery. But mostly, I was excited to see the behind-the-scenes look at the bakery that makes gorgeous biscotti and brownies, available at most Whole Foods across the country now.

The people there are just lovely. Couldn't be lovelier. And when they took the Chef and me on the tour of the facilities, I had to stop myself from yelling out, "Hey, you can't cut that pizza on a wooden table. Wood traps gluten." Just a moment later, they told me, of course, that the table was brand new when they bought it. What a relief to be in a place we can trust is safe, down to where the pizza crust meets the table.

When I was there in November, the women at Mariposa Bakery were not shipping pizzas, because they wanted people to come in and have them fresh. It looks from the website that they have found the best of all worlds. Now, they ship their plain pizza crusts and let you do the rest of the work.

These are good.

Still, if you find yourself in Oakland, stop in for a pizza in this warm, airy bakery. You'll feel such a sense of ease that rarely comes from eating in a restaurant.

mariposa baking company
5427 telegraph ave, unit d3
oakland, ca 94609
tel: 510.595.0955

McQuade's chutney

Back in November — in what feels like another lifetime — the Chef and I had a day off from the book tour stop in the Bay Area. Our dear friend Tea took us on a drive out to Marin, to sample local cheeses, to watch cows in green pastures, to talk about great food and eat it in the next moment.

In one of the more idyllic hours of the trip, we stopped near the water, at Hogg Island Oysters. We ate the oysters that the Chef shucked for us, in the moment. We had a spontaneous gathered picnic, with the last of the year's tomatoes, fresh persimmons, and so much goodness that every bite tasted different.

But one of the bites I remember best was a gluten-free cracker and soft cheese, topped with a dollop of McQuade's moray fig and ginger chutney. This chutney was snappy with spicy ginger, a dreamy sweetness with the fig, and so many spices and flavors that we couldn't even name them all, not all three food-loving people combined. That says something.

McQuade's chutneys are wonderful. That sentence seems a little flat in comparison with the zing of these tastes, but it will have to do. Just look at the possibilities:

Glasgow spiced apple chutney
Lankashire sun-dried tomato chutney
Elgin habanero chutney

And that is just the start.

I adore the fact that the company lists all the ingredients on the website, so those of us with allergies, food intolerances, and autoimmune disorders feel safe.

And it looks like they will be taking online orders soon. Yippee!

So rush right over and try to buy some.

Just after our Bay Area trip, and that idyllic day in nature, Little Bean was conceived. Who knows? Maybe it had something to do with the chutney.

Jennie's coconut macaroons

It took my friend Booth being diagnosed with celiac for me to discover these.

After Booth had given up gluten, I met Nina at one of our favorite grocery stores in Seattle to roam the aisles and find him food he would like. I pointed out all the little bags of flours, the foods that might have hidden gluten, the brands of foods with few ingredients that I genuinely like to eat.

She waved her hand toward a can of Jennie's coconut macaroons and said, "Of course, you know about these macaroons. Booth can't get enough of them."

Actually, I had never seen them before. I love this learning.

These macaroons are the talk of the internet, apparently. People love them because they are made without grains or sugar. Some folks are feeding them to their babies. Fans promote them because they are full of proteins and fiber, seemingly without any bad stuff.

Seemingly is probably the operative word. I'm still more likely to make food from scratch than grab a can. The zero-carb version of these cookies (which I've never seen, and am unlikely to buy) contain maltitol, which makes some people uncomfortable. I wouldn't claim these as a health food. They are cookies, after all.

I just like them because they taste good. And no matter how much you love food in its whole form, sometimes you like gluten-free food you can buy off the shelf.

Now, I have to admit, they might be just a touch too sweet for me. I'm not the proper judge right now, because I seem to have lost my sweet tooth during this pregnancy. But they taste moist and wholesome, with a real flavor all their own.

And since I can't eat the whole can in two days, I like to put them in the freezer. Each bite feels like a little treat this way, and the sweetness isn't quite as pronounced.

I never thought I would like cookies from a can. But here they are. You will too, I'm sure.

Rice Chex

How many of you ate Chex party mix as a kid? I did.

When my parents had friends over — for pool parties or poker games — they always put out a big bowl of the stuff. Several kinds of Chex cereals, cashews or peanuts, pretzels, maybe some of those goldfish crackers, all mixed together with butter and soy sauce. Say what you want about how abominable the stuff really was, but it was addictive. I constantly wandered into the living room to steal handfuls before heading back to the bedroom to read comic books with my brother.

I must admit — I hadn't thought about Chex mix for years, or particularly missed it. After I went gluten-free, there was no chance of something with Wheat Chex in it. But earlier this year, when I read that Rice Chex had gone gluten-free, I grabbed a big box at the supermarket. How could I not?

This is one of the biggest mainstream companies to go gluten-free, and to do so with a flourish. The outside of the box pronounces, with a red check: gluten-free! This alone makes me happy.

And heck, the Chex website has a page of gluten-free recipes for this sturdy cereal.

Here's the thing. This isn't my favorite cereal in the world. It feels healthy and the same as always. And I'm probably not going to be making Muddy Buddies any time soon. But this is big.

When you start to see yourself portrayed in the mainstream, you feel more accepted.

Sunny Valley Wheat Free scones

We had a lovely party the other day, in the backyard during scorching heat. I'd call it a baby shower -- technically, it was, since dear friends were there to celebrate the impending arrival of Little Bean -- but we didn't play any games with balloons under the shirt or ribbons made into a hat. (god forbid that awful one involving a melted Snickers and a diaper.) Instead, dozens of us — men and women both — sat under the shade trees, told stories, and ate great food.

My good friend Karen arrived with a big box of scones in her hands. She has to eat gluten-free as well, so I knew she hadn't just stopped at a bakery at the last moment. "I found these at this gluten-free bakery in Maple Valley. We just happened to stop through there, and I couldn't resist."

"Oh, you mean Sunny Valley Wheat Free?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed. "How did you know?"

A few months ago, I had the pleasure of meeting Deann Schoeler, the brainstorm behind the bakery, at a gluten-free event here in town. She's lovely, and the few goods of hers I tried that day made me want to visit the store. But a certain little someone growing larger prevented the trip over there.

But Karen brought me scones.

Believe it or not, there was so much food piled on the picnic table that afternoon that I didn't have the chance to eat a scone. By the evening, some of the icing had melted, so I put the plastic container in the freezer.

Oh yeah.

I think these are probably best straight from the freezer. One afternoon, I left a scone out to see what it might taste like thawed. The cranberry orange taste was sharp and lively, but the scone turned into little crumbs all around me. They're better from the freezer — they don't actually freeze — where the texture maintains its integrity.

I'm usually not a fan of white rice flour and tapioca baked goods. They strike me as starchy, and the remnants of each bite cling to the teeth. But these scones feel different. They hold up. Their simplicity lets the flavors shine through.

Little Bean has been enjoying these. Thank goodness I am finished with the carton soon. I haven't eaten this much sugar through the entire pregnancy. But I just can't resist reaching into the freezer for a scone I can eat.

Check out the Sunny Valley online shopping site. Even if you live far away from Seattle, and you don't have a friend to bring you scones, you might want to buy some of these.

Bob's Red Mill gluten-free oats

While I am eternally grateful for everything Bob's Red Mill makes — what would I do without all those little bags of flour lined up on grocery shelves, accessible? — I feel most blessed for these. Gluten-free oats.

I have already written about why we need certified gluten-free oats, the glorious return of oatmeal cookies, and all the options available to us. So I won't repeat myself.

I'm just ready to declare a favorite.

After testing and tasting all the gluten-free oats, I can proclaim loudly that I'm loyal to Bob's Red Mill gluten-free oats. They took such trouble to certify that these oats will be safe for those of us who suffer from celiac. Look at this blurb from their website:

"Our Gluten Free Rolled Oats are pure. They are grown by over 200 farmers on clean, dedicated oat-growing fields. They plant only non-GMO "pedigreed" seed stock. Each farm delivery is sampled hundreds of times and tested with an R5 ELISA gluten test to ensure the absence of gluten. Advanced color-sorting removes undetected impurities. Roasting enhances that wholesome, robust flavor you expect. The oats are packaged in our new, 100% gluten free facility and tested for gluten again to ensure their purity."

Yeah, Bob!

(I met Bob himself, when I was in Portland with my book. He's a fabulous, cantankerous, just-what-you-expect-from-the-photograph character. Who wouldn't want to support his endeavors?)

But it's more than that. These oats are thick, hearty, and beam with real taste. Before I had to go gluten-free, I chose Bob's regular oats for my daily breakfast. Finally, after all this time, I can just go back to eating oatmeal.

Because, other than certifying that these oats are grown, transported, and processed in an entirely gluten-free fashion, Bob's Red Mill has produced superlative oats. They don't turn to mush when you cook them. Every morning is a robust taste sensation. I love settling into my seat on the couch, my feet propped up on the coffee table, and digging my spoon into a bowl full of blueberries, cinnamon, walnuts, and these oats.

And there are steel-cut oats too! Soon, I'm going to start grinding those into my own oat flour.

These gluten-free oats are so popular that stores have a hard time keeping them on the shelves. Do yourself a favor —order some directly from Bob, today.

Little Flower Sea Salt Caramels

Every time I go to Los Angeles, Sharon and I traipse around the corner from her apartment within the first hour of my being there. We're headed to the Silverlake Cheese Store, of course. Perhaps we want some aged gouda, or a handful of olives, a wedge of soprasseta. Who knows what fancy will strike us?

But one purchase is certain. A bag of sea salt caramels, made by the Little Flower Candy Company.

Ay god, I love these. Chewy, with a faint sweetness, a tug like taffy on the teeth, and then a small wave of saltiness, like ocean water that pierces through pursed lips. I adore sweet and salt, and these candies hit that magic balance better than any one I've tasted.

It's worth a visit to Sharon just to eat some. Luckily for us, you can also order them online.

Il Macchiolo pasta

My favorite gluten-free pasta of all time is a rice pasta from Italy, called Il Macchiaiolo. Soft and pliable, with a long stretch shape to hold sauces, this is impeccable pasta. Made by artisans, Il Macchiaiolo has been brought into the US by the good folks at Ritrovo.

Ilyse and Ron bring beautiful foods from Italy — mostly organic and made in the tradition of grandfathers — to us lucky enough in the US to find them. And to my surprise and honor, they recently asked me if they could put a sticker on the packages of the rice pasta: Recommended by the Gluten-Free Girl. Of course.

This means that when I go to a grocery store here in Seattle, I reach for the rice pasta, and then stop. I laugh. This cracks me up. Recommended by me, bought by me.

Really, I do recommend it.