AKA He Drank Beer, But I Got Sick: The Curse of His Kiss

When I’m not playing politics here in Washington, I’m eating good gluten-free food and writing about it. Equally happy dining in a Michelin 3-star as I am standing in line at a pupusa truck, I’m also a pretty damn fine home cook. Living with celiac disease isn’t always easy, but spending time in the kitchen with great ingredients and a healthy sense of humor helps me bring big flavor to life, love, and work.

A few months after I was diagnosed with celiac disease, I went out on a date. He was careful to pick a restaurant where the chef could work around my needs. We had a great meal – chicken with roasted winter vegetables – I drank wine, he had beer, and we walked back to his place. He’d just come back from New Orleans, and wanted to tell me all about the bands he’d seen, the places he’d eaten, and the oystermen he’d met. I had another glass of wine, he cracked open a beer, and a little making out led to some more making out and a half-hour …read more

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