Initially, I thought it would be easy. I’ve seen lots of gluten-free products in the supermarket, I would just swap to those. I thought, surely, as long as I’m largely gluten-free, the occasional bit of bread isn’t going to hurt me. However, with coeliac disease, ingesting a single breadcrumb is enough to trigger a reaction. It started to sink in how careful I would have to be and the life-changing consequences of diagnosis.
If I go to a party, even if there are gluten-free snacks such as crisps and olives, someone may have eaten bread before reaching into those bowls, leaving traces of gluten behind. My friends and I take it in turns to host dinner parties where we all bring a dish and, while they’ve offered to make it gluten-free, I don’t want to subject them to that, so I bring something along in Tupperware.
We’ve made the household gluten-free. We have a small kitchen and it was going to be unrealistic to maintain a gluten-free area, so my wife cleared out the cupboards of glutenous foods – I even had to give away the Branston Pickle I’d stockpiled, as it was an old version of the product (now it’s gluten-free). We threw out the toaster and bought new utensils. My family has been so supportive and it means I don’t have to worry at home.
The children have enjoyed trying gluten-free versions of foods and picking out our favourites, though it is a much more expensive way to live. Bread is at least twice the price and pasta around three times as much. However, I’m a convert to gluten-free beer and wine, of course, is naturally gluten-free.
Friends, with good intentions, try to tell me that I can probably have a bit of gluten every now and then. I think this is because people think it’s a health fad. I lived in Los Angeles for three years and was exposed to all the trends in Hollywood. I also wrongly assumed gluten-free was a lifestyle choice. But coeliac disease is an autoimmune issue, not a choice, intolerance or preference. It’s an absolute necessity.
The world’s most gluten-free town
A turning point was a work trip to northern Spain in June. While photographing Mariel Hemingway, granddaughter of Ernest, for The Telegraph, I stumbled on Cangas del Narcea, a small market town in the mountains with a population of just under 6,000.