Safe Journey

Armed with a suitcase full of rice cakes and enough French to buy the fabulous pair of riding boots I still prize today, I prepared for my first April in Paris as a gluten-free celiac by penning the forerunner of the French language card that appears in Against The Grain. Written in ridiculous schoolgirl French, it basically said, "If I have any farine, I'll have a disease in my chair." One look at my pathetic little carte and even the snootiest maitre d' melted.

Upon reading it, the manager of one Left Bank bistro gave me a wonderful bottle of Brouilly and refused to roll the pastry cart to our table, raising a warning eyebrow at my husband. Only a beast would ogle a tart in front of his grain-challenged wife. In a sidewalk cafe in the shadow of Ste. Sulpice, a party broke out because of my "petite carte." When the owner showed it to a table full of regulars, they peered at the card, pointed at us and laughed, as intent on my husband as they were on the woman who could "ne mange pas farine."

Finally one of them approached our table, a jovial Brit who explained that my husband, a jovial Brit himself, looked exactly like "Capitaine Haddock," a blustery English naval officer in the popular French cartoon strip, "Tintin." He said I reminded them of the hapless princess locked in the tower or, in this case, a pastry shop. Tables were joined, introductions made, glasses of wine all around. An unforgettable evening in Paris, all because of my special diet.

The point is, laughter doesn't always mean someone is making fun of you. Strict adherence to a special diet, no matter what time zone you are traveling in, can and should rely, as Tennessee Williams' Blanche DuBois knew very well, "on the kindness of strangers." After all, isn't a stranger only a friend you haven't met yet?

Whether your spring break is the vacation of a lifetime, a week of unwinding at a spa or a few days exploring byways and back roads at home, the trick to traveling well is to be open to adventure, but never unprepared.

Before you leave home, copy enough language cards for your purse, suit pocket, fanny pack, passport case, wallet and evening bag for the Big Night Out. For extended stays, jot your room number down and give it to the restaurant. Ditto for the room service manager and the concierge. This way when a reservation is made on your behalf, the restaurant is prepared for your arrival. Always make extra cards for the inevitable request for a souvenir. After you're gone, they will speak of your visit as "The Night of the Curious American Who Could Not Eat Certain Foods."

When traveling in a group or on a cruise ship where meal decisions are made for you, always phone ahead, several months, if possible. Even better, ask that the menu be sent to you as soon as it is available. This way you can study it, ask specific questions and come up with a suggestion or two on how it can be tailored to your diet. Pack a loaf of gluten-free bread, some dinner rolls, and a box of gluten-free pasta anyway. No matter how sweetly you ask, the captain will not make a U-turn and sail back for your gluten-free bagels.

Spas are always amenable to special diets. Canyon Ranch in Tucson, Arizona, bakes fresh gluten-free bread and muffins daily. Rancho La Puerta's executive chef, Bill Wavrin, is cheerfully accommodating and with notice will prepare a gluten-free backpack for the day hike up Mount Kuchima.

Inns and bed and breakfasts that cater to special diets, travel that includes gluten-free cooking classes, and children's summer camps are sprouting up across the country, so there's never been a better time to hit the road.

It's ironic that as more and more restaurants and shops cater to special diets, airlines seem to be dispensing with food altogether. Nowadays, a bag of pretzels is a meal on most domestic flights. I never fly without fruit, a couple bottles of water, a packet of gluten-free crackers or muffin and an energy bar. This not only comes in handy in the air, it's a lifesaver when stuck on the runway for hours. As often as not, I'm the only one with food. You can't imagine what people will do for half a banana.

While some airlines offer gluten-free meals, I rarely bother with them. At 30,000 feet, mistakes cannot be rectified. Whenever possible, I pre-order the fruit and cheese plate, which I find superior to anything served.

Once upon a time, I carried utensils, too, but security issues have put the kibosh on that. Eating with one's hands may be safer, but it's messy, so pack lots of moist towels. I don't wrap bread in tin foil and stick it in my suitcase anymore, either. By the time bomb-sniffing dogs drool on it and the security people x-ray it and poke at it with sticks, it's lost its appeal. Besides, it's never been easier to buy gluten-free products abroad.

In London, Harrods and Marks & Spencer have large gluten-free sections in their food halls. All Italian pharmacies carry gluten-free foods. All you have to do is say "celiachia," and you're in business. But never drink hotel coffee from a warming urn. It almost always contains barley. Have freshly brewed espresso or latte instead.

In German-speaking countries, the word "reformhaus" on health food stores means gluten-free food inside. And in Sweden, celiac heaven, where every supermarket has a gluten-free section, even the Big Macs are gluten free.

Stock up first thing when you arrive and stash your goodies in the fridge in your room. No fridge? Most hotels will let you borrow theirs.

Driving allows for the most control. Get out a map and design your route around restaurants, shops, bed and breakfasts that are special-diet friendly, and load the trunk with your goodies, but don't travel in a bubble. I once met a woman who drove everywhere pulling a little trailer full of food behind her, trusting no one to prepare her meals. No margin for error there, but not much room for fun, either.

No matter how carefully you plan, especially in exotic locations, you may find yourself struggling to make that bag of your own food last. I look at it this way. There's always another meal, but there may never be another chance to drink in the beauty of an Alpine lake, breathe the saffron-scented air of a bazaar, or see Kilimanjaro at sunrise. Travel is food for the soul. Besides, in the presence of such wonders, who can swallow?

Click Here for information on our Gluten-Free and Casein-Free Dining Cards.

This article was featured in the Spring 2003 issue.
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