Good food. Proper food.
The kind that makes you do that slow nod of approval and maybe a weird little happy dance in the kitchen.
But because I’m coeliac, it also has to be gluten free—which means I’ve accidentally turned into a bit of a food snob. Not in a Michelin-starred, truffle-oil-everything kind of way. More like: I’ve eaten enough dry, crumbly, soul-crushing gluten free bread to know better.
I think the moment I realised things had changed was when I caught myself reviewing a restaurant’s gluten free chips in my head like a MasterChef judge. “Nice crunch, decent salt balance, could use a touch more paprika.” That’s when it hit me—this wasn’t just survival anymore. I had opinions. I had standards. I had become That Guy.
When you have to scrutinise every label, ask awkward questions at restaurants, and risk being “glutened” by one careless breadcrumb, you start to develop… preferences. And let’s be honest—high ones. If I’m going to the effort of eating safely, I want it to taste great too.
I’m passionate about finding (and sometimes creating) gluten free food that actually tastes good. Food that feels like a treat, not a compromise. And if I can help other people avoid the cardboard bread phase, even better.
If you’re coeliac too, you’ll get it. We don’t get to be casual about food. So when we find something that’s genuinely good, it feels like a small victory. And we deserve those.
Honestly, I just want to eat well, feel well, and make a few people laugh along the way. Preferably over a really decent lasagne.



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