In my life where nausea reins supreme mild dry snacks must be kept at hand. Other than Graham Crackers I had never had much success.
One day in a fit of desperation I hit up Pinterest and hacked my way through dozens of recipes until I found some common ratios (flour/fat/moisture) and used that knowledge to create a gluten free and (mostly) allergy friendly option for myself.
Despite my gastric woes I still enjoy interacting with food. I make no claims of being formally trained or a "chef". My kitchen experience began in everyday places. Picking apricots from my Aunties tree to help her make jam, or chopping nuts for Christmas time butter toffee with my Grandmother. My tastes are rather "exotic" by compare to my family so as I grew so did my skills in hunting down and preparing recipes more to my palette. I am not terribly intimidated by experimentation, a good trait...
A book I read recently had a passage which struck a cord with me I thought I'd share. "I'll miss when menus at restaurants were just lists of delicious dinners. And nothing more nutritionally threatening." Though the protagonist was speaking in reference to her eating disorder I felt a kinship to the phrasing. I miss looking at food in a less analytical way. At worst instead of seeing shrimp in a savory butter sauce I see agonizing hours of gastrointestinal torture, itching hives, aching bones f...