I say mine should be edible, sarcastic, and safe for coeliacs.
I don’t know if my son will ever need to go gluten-free — he’s got a good shot at avoiding that particular genetic party bag. But coeliac didn’t hit me until I was in my teens (even if I didn’t know it at the time), so I know how quickly life can flip from “pass the baguette” to “please stop poisoning me.”
I built The GF Table because I didn’t want anyone else to feel as lost, sick, or gaslit as I did. If my weird little corner of the internet helps even one person dodge years of misdiagnosis or sad beige food, I’ll count that as a win.
I want Ollie to grow up knowing his dad made something useful — and occasionally unhinged — in a world that still thinks “gluten-free” means “just a bit fussy.”
That’s the legacy:
Better food. Fewer hospital wristbands. And at least one blog post that makes you laugh-snort your coffee.
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