Tried by Fire

Tonight I grilled chicken with Glutino Gluten Free Bread Crumbs. Corn, cane juice, and sea salt. I practically did a subdued dance in Walmart's aisle when I found the bread crumbs at a reasonable price. My homemade gluten free crumbs just don't cut it since I'm still working on perfecting the recipe. However, I kept the dance subdued because with a name like Glutino, the bread crumbs would undoubtedly  taste like cardboard. Wrong! I added a few spices to the crumbs, rolled the chicken thighs in it, and grilled them on the grill. I got a cross between movie theater popcorn and KFC. Sounds strange but it was super yum, as well as the perfect compliment to my corn bread!

While I sat in the garage enjoying the flavor explosion and watching my husband work on a car, I realized that it has been three weeks to the day of a restricted diet (minus that Chic-fil-A French fry/milkshake indiscretion...hey, no one's perfect). Three weeks. This is incomprehensible to me. And then it hit me.  Up until a few days ago, I really did think this diet would kill me, but as I ponder the rebuilding of the pantry and learning to cook\bake new foods, I'm discovering it's not about living without. It's not impossible. It's about accepting the challenge. It's about healing. It's about expanding the palate. Stomach issues aside, I'm also feeling good about this diet because I am eating healthier than I ever have. Do I miss the convenience of prepared foods? Yes! Is it  annoying to pack my food for every outing? Most definitely! Yet my meals are taking on a depth that has been lacking for many years. But NO prepared food for three weeks??!! That is  so incredible. No boxed pizzas. No fast food (see above). No candy. Very little sugar. It's akin to fasting! And it's even more incredible because I'm the one doing it! Who knew?

After all is said and done, I am just a tiny piece of this puzzle that has been perplexing me for nearly four months. Depression raised its ugly head, and I've been battling that until the Lord ask me this question: "Can you trust Me?" The Lord has been working steadily in my heart and mind to accept this new fact in my life, and most days I think I do a pretty good job of handling it. Then there are other days when Satan works overtime. Just a few days ago, I admitted to myself and my Redeemer that I have been having one ginormous pity party for myself. Instead of letting my God handle this, I've been frustrated with doctors. Talk about misplaced faith. The doctors aren't really the ones who can heal me. I feel like I'm walking through the fire, but I know that God is still with me, and I know I am being refined: such a wonderful feeling! I feel His presence and love surrounding me every single moment, and I know I am safe, no matter what the future brings. And once my 12 week diet is done, He'll be there if I say goodbye to it or if it becomes my new permanent reality.

I'm praising God for His faithfulness to one who gets tangled up in fear and frustration. Yes, I trust Him. I have been walking with Him for 16 and a half years. He hasn't let me down yet, and He never will. I'm a daughter of the Holy King; My days do not need to be filled with Satan's darkness because Jesus is the light that brightens my life and leads me every step of the way!

Fearless Frankenstein Creates Frankencakes

I’ve always been a little intimidated when it comes to the kitchen. My mom was always a fantastic cook, but I don’t appear to have inherited her skills. Now that my whole diet has completely changed it’s been more than intimidating. Take baking yeast bread, for example. In order to get the right dough consistency, I can always pull from the experience of baking it with my mom. The first time I made gluten free bread, I found myself feeling slightly panicked as my Kitchen Aid mixed the ingredients. It was like exploring unchartered territory. Gluten free dough is exactly the opposite of wheat bread when it comes to consistency. Add xanthan gum and it’s even scarier. It’s ooey and gooey and screams epic failure as you scrape the dough out of the bowl and into a pan. I feel like a pioneer who has no map to follow save what I find on the Internet, and I discovered that the Internet doesn’t really replace hands-on experience. However, I haven’t let my intimidation stop me from experimenting. I’ve had to be fearless in the kitchen, and the other day I donned the persona of Dr. Frankenstein.

In an effort to help offset the flops with the gluten-free flours in my kitchen, my wonderful mom found a recipe in one of her cookbooks for buckwheat pancakes made with yeast. I've never been a huge fan of buckwheat, but it's an acceptable food I can eat. The recipe seemed simple enough, but here’s where Frankenstein came in: I had to improvise with some ingredients. I had to do a little guesswork and math with the yeast. It called for just a portion of a yeast cake. I didn’t have a yeast cake, so improvised with active dry yeast. Once you mix the yeast, water, flour, and scalded milk together, the batter is supposed to rest all night. Well, since I wanted breakfast for dinner, mine rested all day. This questionable looking concoction that was resting in my kitchen looked something like this:

When it came time to add the baking soda, molasses, and egg, I was extremely nervous. Not only did I improvise with the yeast, but I also used almond milk for the milk; for the egg, I used Enger-G Egg Replacer. Well, as I dumped in the baking soda/water mixture, the batter came alive! It fizzled and fuzzled, and once it was mixed up it was ready to be fried.

The end result? They looked somewhat suspicious with their wrinkled "skin," but the texture was amazingly light and fluffy. Flavor wise, my little Frankencakes didn’t turn out quite as well as I had hoped. I’m speculating I may have been a little heavy handed on the yeast, and I’m wondering about that almond milk and fake egg I used. Someday (hopefully) when I’m able to use the actual ingredients, I will try these again without having to employ Dr. Frankenstein’s tactics.