The 12 year old version of me cried last night. What used to be such a simple pleasure, has unfortunately become another victim of celiac disease. After dinner, my husband and I had an unshakeable craving for ice cream. You know, the delicious kind that comes with a few different flavors and toppings, and is served to you without any of your own hard work. Let’s be honest, there really isn’t any other kind!
So why is this such a big deal as a celiac you ask? Because that meant we had to start googling. First we searched for our options in the area. Unfortunately we didn’t have too many local choices, but Baskin Robbins nearby looked promising. Then began the search for whether or not I could eat some of their flavors…and that’s where my 12 year old self got incredibly disappointed.
Think back to the last time you had ice cream from a specialty shop…you request a couple flavors, so does the person in front of you. The workers grab a scoop from a bowl of water and start to pack it all in. Did the person in front of you get a cone? Did they order chocolate chip cookie dough? Was the same scoop used after they touched the cookie dough, and presumably bumped the cone as well? Let’s not forget the toppings, all crowded close together in small bins on a buffet…where do they keep the cookie crumbs? Or the candy bars? Are they close to the chocolate fudge or fresh fruit you were planning to add to your ice cream cup?
All of it, that’s right, every last flavor and topping is at HIGH risk for cross contamination. And in my world, any risk is too high to chance 😦
There was a bit of a silver lining, we were able to scan a couple different flavors of Edy’s ice cream that were safe for me at the grocery store. In the comfort of my own home, I knew the ice cream scoop was safe to use, and nothing had been crossed in the fresh tubs of ice cream. These are the things each of us battle every day as we deal with celiac disease. It’s so much more than no beer, pasta, or bread. It affects even the smallest decisions and the simplest pleasures of our lives.