A Dreadful Feast

"Good King Wencelas" is a favorite of mine, taught to me by my endearing but rather odd Czech pediatrician.

The sanitized story told to children is that a king saw a peasant struggling through the snow, gathering firewood (winter fuuuuuuuuu-ooh-el...) and saying to a page, "Boy, where does he live?" Upon being given an address, king and page walk ten miles through the snow, barefoot. The page shivers horribly, the king tells him to walk in his footprints. By strange miracle, the footprints elicit a beautiful heat and the barefoot boy walks behind his monarch in comfort.

Popes have repeated this walk, and it's beautiful to see. But the story is bunk. 

 

(Beautiful song, though!)

 The truth (in as short a time as I can): Wencelas I was Duke of Bohemia, paying homages not to the Holy Roman Empire, but to East Francia. He was a gentle man, too gentle... a scholar as opposed to leader. His reforms caused strife. Brother Boleslav (Great Glory, Bringer of glory... Slavic names are more abstract.) kills him on his way to Mass one fine winter's day. The page kills one of Boleslav's men, and goes into the woods. He too is found and murdered. Boleslav's wife has a child that day. In honor of the horrid deed of murder, and feeling sad and sick, Boleslav names the baby "Strachkvas"- A dreadful feast. (Such a marvelous name--- oops, sorry, kiddo, we committed murder, and now that I am feeling guilty, you are permanently named in honor of this act.)

Boleslav was called "The Cruel"... but he did great things for Bohemia (if not being someone I'd ever trust to write a book of Slavic Baby Names.)

...And a Pickle In A Pine Tree

I don't know WHY this looks wrong to me.

Gather 'round, dear children, and I'll tell you a tale.
First things first: true celebrations should only begin with murderous intent in mind, not lead to it, but here we go.

German tradition is rife with tales of Bishop Nicholas, now Saint Nicolas. Also, tales that might make the Crypt Keeper's hair stand even more on end on Tales From The Crypt.
Three little boys leave home in the cold of winter, bringing with them gifts for the now-sainted Bishop, savior of would-be prostitutes and someone who still has me all these years later, still checking my shoes before I put them on.
They stay at an inn (All good Christmas tales start in that century's version of a Holiday Inn.)
The inn keeper is a nasty, greedy man and decides that he will keep the Sainted-Bishop's gifts for himself. So he murders our tiny travelers and pickles them in brine. (Another Christmas story with a bit of cannibalistic intent, check!) The Sainted-Bishop finds out and steaming, he goes to the Inn himself. Where he resurrects (with God's help & grace) the wee pickled tots. Now, many centuries later, fun-loving Germans remember the tale with the hiding of a glass (I hope) pickle hidden in their Christmas trees. (Which was another tradition we got from the Germans, courtesy of Queen Victoria, who surprise, was more German than she was English.)
The finder receives a gift, or a year of good luck.
Considering the shape of pickles, this one might be best for the Feast of the Circumcision ... of the Young Frankenstein.

A Little Bit of Myth-Busting

Every day I come across myths and numerous misinterpretations of the gluten-free diet.

So...

Any questions? 

1) NO two people are the same and their diets must reflect this
2)Glucose and gluten are two entirely separate things. Glucose, if eliminated from my diet would be a BAD thing. Ever see someone who tends to have low blood sugar? Not pretty! Gluten is a protein that also aids in stickiness in grains such as wheat, rye, barley and spelt. Glucose is a sugar
3)Gluten-free and taste are not mutually exclusive. Indeed, if it's "healthy" and "gluten free" and tastes like the butt of a diseased cow, I'm not eating it.
4)Some people need fats...I never absorb those, myself. So cutting fats out of some diets is bad. Besides, you need a small amount to be healthy... even that you can get eating a jar of almonds. Eliminating fat isn't healthy.
5)Scare-mongerers on a pro-anorexia site (I was shocked and saddened there WAS such a thing) insist you can't eat anything on a GF diet. (Buzzer.) I face-palmed so hard I almost gave myself a bruise.
Worse yet, a Forbes journalist used them as a source. (Double face palm.) For your edification here's a link I left off in the original blog. I figure it fits well as a link in a myth busting blog: "They'll Never Expect You To Eat Again"
I feel for these girls, I do.
When you're naturally thin, don't absorb fat well, and live your life on "Are you sure I can have that? Can I have a crouton-less salad?" and use a probiotic to fully ensure all the plumbing works, and have been accused of having some sort of an issue (Those that don't know will often say "You're trying to stay thin right?" No, I'm trying to stay alive and get healthy.)
But uh, let me repeat: NO TWO PEOPLE ARE THE SAME AND THEIR DIETS SHOULD REFLECT THIS. They should eat, without fear, what is right for them, refuse what is not, and enjoy some things because they taste good. I myself just waxed poetic on Pamela's chocolate-chocolate chunk cookies. No gluten, plenty of cocoa... yum!
The gluten-free diet is not next to nothing. I can eat a surprising amount of things... vegetables, fruits, nuts (Often in the peanut-butter chocolate Kind bar), meats, dairy. I just can't have wheat, rye, barley and spelt. But I've learned how to test products, make things I can eat, and have become quite experimental. Hummus recently got included in my list.
What I won't eat, not just taking into account the actually smaller list of "can'ts" is anything that tastes like the back end of a cow. I also refuse to recommend anything or feed it to anyone else unless it's passed my tests, and I can be notoriously picky.
Don't make generalizations or assumptions. Ask.
Ps... even though I also suffer from an allergy to pork, I also love bacon. I also like the smell of the original pork-based version and will inhale it like precious perfume.
So, hey, offer me bacon, I'll make a sandwich - and I know how to make damn good ones! Thanks to German bakers I found one that is not "Essence of Cardboard".
Best.T-Shirt. Ever.