It used to be the whole clan around the dining table, but these days, with one nephew in Texas and a daughter’s family in Boston, instead of thirteen, we are only eight this year. The table is laden with every possible combination of food, gluten filled, gluten free, spicy, not spicy, vegetarian, and meaty.
The potatoes are full of cheese, the green bean casserole is full of cheese but no gluten, and the breaded turkey-less stuffed roast with gravy from Trader Joes’s is good for the two vegetarians. There’s enough food for six more people. Everyone cooked something except Grandma.
Mom is 94, so we don’t expect her to bring anything. She needed a cup of tea and then later a cup of coffee. I was happy to help since I don’t see her that often. She went on and on about her four new great-grandchildren. It has been a banner year for Iowa babies joining the family.
My turkey is pepper-free, since I’m allergic. My adult kids eat the Trader Joe’s turkey-less, everyone is happy with the options, slippery cranberry from a can or the zesty orange cranberry relish Sis made from our grandmother’s recipe.
We talked about the same grandmother’s Jello salads of yesteryear – the cottage cheese, green pepper and pineapple in a lime green Jello, molded into a ring. Then there was the Jello with fruit in it. I did that for my kids when they were young and hadn’t thought about Jello salads for a decade or two.
After four kinds of pie (three gluten free) and fresh whipped cream, I knew I had eaten too much and foods out of my comfort zone. So much butter in everything.
The ninety minute ride home wasn’t good. Besides having to drive Highway 17, the roller coaster road to and from Santa Cruz, I had acid coming up and the windshield kept fogging over. All the delicious food I’d eaten was now coming back to me, bitter acid in my throat, coughing to keep my windpipe clear, eating a Tums, repeat, repeat, repeat.
I thought of the friends who question my food choices and don’t understand when I won’t eat their potluck food. I know what I can handle without feeling bad. Today I broke the rules, and I had to pay for the long ride home.
Time for some Pepto Bismol.
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 