Oh hells. You guys, I’ve been busting my ass to make zero mistakes, especially after the last few months. Which is pretty freaking difficult when you’re on the road (unless you’re in Portland, more on that later). So what I did yesterday is basically inexcusable. INEXCUSABLE. Here’s what went down.
I have a lunch problem. This existed way before my celiac diagnosis. I always hate trying to figure out lunch. Breakfast? Lay it on me: gluten-free cereal, bar, gf oatmeal, eggs, whatnot. Dinner? Well, I think you know I can fry up anything and put some gf pasta on it. I’m cool. But lunch is so freaking challenging and I’m not sure why. If I don’t have leftovers, I’m a wreck. I drive around in a daze trying to figure out a) who has the best parking, b) and has gluten-free food, and c) is going to make me feel okay in the middle of my work day. Don’t think that I don’t get that ‘c’ might be the most challenging part of this equation.
So yesterday I did not have any of that delicious gluten-free deconstructed lasagna on hand (See: Recipes, Gluten Is My Bitch: Rants, Recipes & Ridiculousness for the Gluten-Free) so I drove aimlessly. Sure, I needed some Mucinex, because GD I’ve got this upper respiratory situation again, but I wasn’t exactly planning on ending up at the Whole Foods in Santa Monica where everyone is angry and sometimes they give you nachos with all of the cheese melted on the bottom. But I did. You know who doesn’t carry Mucinex? Whole Foods.
Anyhoo. I’ve had a very abusive love affair with the mini nachos at the WH on Wilshire and 23rd, and I went back for more. Even though the last three times I was there I had one dude do that cheese thing I mentioned earlier, another gal say to me, “Oh my god, is it time for my break?” and a third guy look at me like I was speaking Spanish when I asked for mini nachos. Which, okay, maybe I was. The point is, this is not a great joint for the gluten-free. And it should be, I mean, Whole Foods, WTF?
Perhaps I should I have run for the door when the guy who literally handled 4 pizza slices right in front of me grabbed my corn tortillas, but I was just like, “PLEASE GOD, LET ME EAT LUNCH AND LET IT BE TACOS.” But for sure when that same guy threw my tacos on the grill that had just been used for paninis, yeah, I should have run as fast as I could have. Instead? Instead I took the tacos, paid $6.99 and ATE THEM. I think you all know what came next.
So here it is, friends. Not only a warning to avoid the hot food bar at the Whole Foods on Wilshire & 23rd (or is it 24th?) in Santa Monica, but to not do that thing where you’re all, “Oh, hey, how bad could cross contamination be?” Learn from me. Don’t have to drop your pants at work.
Image via Kulfoto