Okay warning, pity party ahead. Nothing about this post is going to be positive and there’s a pretty solid guarantee I’m going to whine, so feel free to leave while I vent my spleen at the Universe.
On any given day, if you ever asked what food I could never, ever live without, the answer would be cheese. Always. I can do without chocolate. I can do without bread even. Not cheese.
So having a dairy allergy is pretty much one of my circles of hell. I feel like a victim of some ginormous cosmic punking.
Hubby felt that way when we discovered his gluten intolerance, and things got better because I figured out how to duplicate almost everything. But that was gluten. Baked stuff. And to a point , dairy free alternatives aren’t a big thing. There are a zillion different alternative milks that work in a lot of applications–baking or whatever.
You can’t duplicate cheese. I’ve been trying my best to stay positive and try all the stuff in The Uncheese Cookbook, but the fact is, it just doesn’t work. It’s not cheese. It doesn’t act like cheese. It doesn’t taste like cheese. Anybody who says otherwise is so far removed from the real thing, they don’t remember what it’s like.
I just tried to make pizza with faux mozzarella on my half (next to my husband’s half that was a perfect pizza). It was revolting. Didn’t melt as the book said it would (which ended up being a good thing as I could still peel it off). So I had soggy tomato bread with pepperoni. This is not pizza. The entire POINT of pizza for me is mountains of ooey gooey cheese. The same for Mexican food. Lasagna. Or just generally eating a big block. Every single one of my favorite foods has lots of cheese.
I would like to know what I did to deserve this giant F YOU from the Universe.
I just keep getting slapped in the face over this. I already made my best pie for other people and got to watch all of them eat and enjoy it. Everywhere everybody wants to go to eat for lunches or dinners have pretty well nothing I can eat. I’m a real party killer now. Nobody knows what to feed me, and then I get to watch them all enjoy all my favorite foods. This does not make me good company.
I’m so incredibly angry about this. Cue fist waving and cursing at God about fairness and crap. And yeah, while I’m perfectly well aware that this is a first world kind of problem because I’ve got a roof over my head and food in my belly and health care and a job and all that stuff. BUT I WANT MY GODDAMNED CHEESE.