In the spirit of John Green’s book of the same title, our theme for the month of October is “the Anthropocene reviewed.” Writers were asked to review and rate some facet of human experience on a five-star scale.

This summer, I was faced with the challenge of completing an elimination diet. While I do not have any specific food allergies, it turns out I do have several sensitivities. My doctor sat me down and recommended I remove anything inflammatory for at least two months before we discussed food reintroduction.

I knew the charge was coming—going gluten-free was the next logical recommendation from the medical community to help address my complaints. Conveniently, this news came during prime farmer’s market season, so I was okay at first. I made it a game to experiment with new fresh veggies to keep meals exciting, and scoured Instagram reels and Pinterest for trendy recipes. I kept a food journal every day, painstakingly writing down each morsel I consumed. Much of my brain space was taken up by meal planning, and almost all my free time was spent grocery shopping or meal prepping.

I learned a lot through the process: getting enough daily protein is no easy feat, rainbow chard isn’t half bad, and chocolate makes me a much, much happier person.

Overall, remaining gluten-free was one of the greatest challenges of the elimination process, especially when traveling. I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed those little pretzel snack packs on airplanes, Trader Joe’s frozen meals, or a brioche bun until they were all banned. Eating lunch with co-workers and having to bypass our favorite bakery’s cookies: also deeply painful.

The main temptation, however, was going out to eat. Unsurprisingly, most restaurants don’t offer gluten-free pizza crust or sandwich bread. I discovered quickly that cooking at home was going to be the easiest route. Miraculously, the grocery store’s gluten-free offerings are much tastier than they used to be (my gluten-free stint ten years ago was infinitely more depressing). I even stumbled upon a loaf of gluten-free garlic herb bread at the farmers market and was almost brought to tears—it’s the little things, apparently. And if you really try, you can almost convince yourself that Trader Joe’s gluten-free bagels are real.

That is, until you eat a normal bagel again. And zucchini noodles—while a great way to disguise vegetables—do not taste the same as real pasta. Nothing compares to fresh focaccia, and real bread pudding from a French bakery just doesn’t have a good substitute.

However, even after reintroduction, I will carry on with the (mostly) gluten-free life. All in all, the extra work and planning is absolutely worthwhile to feel better. I must dock points for how much I miss sourdough, but for the improvements to my overall health (plus the surprising tastiness of alternative flours), I give eating gluten-free three and a half out of five stars.

Olivia Harre

Olivia graduated from Calvin in May 2018 with a double major in business and writing. She now works as an editor in Nashville, Tennessee and is eating her way through the restaurants of her new town. She enjoys weekend trips with friends, petting other people’s dogs, and drinking coffee like a Gilmore Girl.