Egg Everything! (without egg)

I once did a radio show on Dubai Eye. Me and two others were interviewed and got to talk about gluten free. It was GREAT. Apart from a bit where I got very very over exited about chickpeas. My friends still tease me about my childish exitement for this little legume. Little did I know at the time, how much more Id come to love them. But something out there is even better than chickpeas….. CHICKPEA EGG!

Im not even kidding. Once you learn how to make it you will fall in love with it too. I started off googling, chickpea bread, chickpea fritata, eggfree chickpea quiche, anything you normally make with eggs, just google it with the word chickpea, and yes, you can make it!

You can even make…… gamer changer here, drumroll…. SCRAMBLED EGG! Without egg!!

If you arent letting out an exited little squeal right now Im not actually sure if we can still be friends.

So ALL my old eggy recipes, all my fast omelette dinners, all the french toast and little lunchbox frittatas, I can make them again! And you don’t even need to google. I’ll give you the base recipe right here.

You need:

  • Water
  • Chickpea flour

Thats it. Thats actually it!!!!! Is your mind blown yet? Ive been using this now for over a year and my mind is still blown every time I use it.

So, basically, you need equal amounts chickpea flour and water. You whisk it together and let it sit a bit to thicken. 30 mins is good, overnight even better, but you can give it a go after 10 minutes too if you feel impatient. For the french toast 1dl water and 1 dl flour is plenty. Around the same as 2-3 eggs.

Add your flavours same as you would with any egg recipe. Salt, pepper, I add a small bit of tumeric for colour and its divine.

Please let me know how you get on. Possibilities are endless. You can even make a super fast egg bread!

I use doves farm chickpea flour as its certified gluten free.

Banana Bread! (eggfree, glutenfree)

It took social distancing and Covid19 to get me blogging again I guess. Trying not to waste and we live in banana land! So, off I went, scrolling for recipes that are gluten free, egg free, corn free and use bananas. None of the recipes suited me. Im not a fan of powder egg replacer or flax egg. Both banana and chickpea flour can be used as egg replacer right? So. Time to make my own recipe. I will spare you all the details. There was Bread 1, 2 and 3. In the end bread 3 won hands down and this is what Im sharing with you today 🙂

Dont be afraid to experiment, so many recipes call for things we may not have at home. Half the recipe here is bananas anyway so dont stress to much if you add or remove or adjust elsewhere!

You need:

  • 5 Bananas (bananas here are pretty small so you can absolutely use less if you have big ones)
  • 3 tbsp sugar or other sweetener.
  • 1dl chickpea flour
  • 1.5 dl gf flour blend (switch the half for gf oats if you prefer)
  • 1 dl milk
  • 1 tbsp baking powder
  • Cinnamon, to taste. I used about half a tbsp
  • OPTIONAL extra – seeds, gf oats, raisins, whatever you like. Ive done batches with raisins and seeds on top and some with oats inside and all of it works! You dont need any of it, but you can absolutely use your imagination here. Perhaps chocolate chips?

Mash your bananas well. In all my version the bread that turned out the best I used my electric whisk to get all the banana lumps out and the bread turned out the fluffiest, so mash a bit, then get that whisk out!

Add all other ingredients and mix well. Yes, you can do it in any order you like, its absolutely ok!

The bananas make this cake (hateword number 1) moist enough on its own, so I added no oil to the batter. I did put some oil on my parchment paper though.

Pop it all in a bread tin and place in a 185 degree (pre heated) oven for 45 minutes.

Hot tip, banana bread is BETTER the day after you make it. If you absolutely cant wait though, at least let it cool down before you cut it. All my banana breads end up looking a little burnt, I think its just the caramelising of the bananas? They dont taste burnt 🙂

Enjoy!

A horrifying egg story (!!)

Driving to school, normal, lovely sunny school run. We chat, as we always do. We talk about friends, about school, anything really. We are trying to figure out which of the girls doesn’t have a cat because A wants to go on her first ever sleepover. Its not fair she says that she’s almost 9 and never slept at someones house. I instruct her to ask all the girls about their pets and tell me. I feel sorry for whichever family doesn’t have a cat because that mum, she will be my friend! haha

Then a bit of silence…. and a tentative …. “mummy…….” I can hear already by her voice that this is something important. “Yes sweetie?” I say. She takes a deep breath, “mummy, Miss Z says we are painting hardboiled eggs in art for easter”. My heart almost stops. Like a giant claw just closes around it and Im unable to breathe. Eggs? I say, real eggs? “yes mummy, real eggs, hardboiled ones”. My mind is racing, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Trying so desperately to stay calm. Did Miss Z forget? Has she not read her file? Did someone somewhere go totally bonkers? When do you have art again I ask. She doesn’t remember.  A, I say, listen to me now. If at any point you go in to a class room and there are eggs there, real eggs, I want you to walk straight out and go to reception and ask Miss T to call mummy. ok? “Yes mummy” she almost whispers. I ask her why she didnt speak up, she shrugs. I try to be calm still, I tell her I am proud of her for telling me, I tell her well done, and she did the right thing and next we will work on being vocal and speaking up. She understands, she nods. She knows.

We arrive at school. My legs are weak, I feel like I might pass out. I kiss them both goodbye, try to smile and seem normal, but my whole world is spinning.

I go in to reception, I try to be calm, I am everything but calm. Hi Miss T, I need to speak with Mr R, Mrs Y and Miss Z I say as politely and calmly as I possibly can. Yes of course she says, what is it regarding? “EGGS” I say and then I feel relieved somehow, I laugh, Im almost me again. Ive made it, Ive made it in there, Ive averted whatever disaster may have happened. I quickly explain the situation. “Yes, she says, of course, EGGS”, she pops off to the staffroom and manages to catch all the people I had asked for. She comes back. “Polystyrene egg” she says, “thats what they are painting. But I reminded them all about real eggs, and that if any real egg is brought in to any class room by anybody A should leave immediately. I am sending an email to all her teachers now as well, just so they all have a reminder”.

I am holding the reception desk, laughing now, I can breathe again. We make a joke about stupid chickens and stupid eggs and I am so relieved I almost want to hug her.

I am so relieved. Polystyrene eggs.

How a small conversation about egg can ruin ones morning. :/

Welcome to allergy mama world.

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Hi, hello!! (Ostrich no more)

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I really wasn’t sure what to put as a headline/subject? How do you say hello again to social media, life, your blog after spending months as a recluse?

Let me give you all a little tip (or a few actually).

If you have a hysterectomy, don’t think you can be batman or someone of equal power and strength and move country 4 weeks later. Also, if you’ve been on medication for your mental health for years, don’t quit that medication 7 days before said hysterectomy.

Dont move country, by yourself, with two kids and a dog who you cant even lift because you’ve just had surgery… dont move to a house thats cold and empty and have your furniture on a boat following a month later. Dont throw yourself in to everything without any regard for yourself and your own well being, because chances are you wont do so good…… chances are you will need months to get back on track.

And so, here I am.

I did all of the above, I learnt that I am more fragile then I admitted to myself, I realised that I’m an idiot (!! HAHA) and that just because you always land with your feet down eventually doesn’t mean you should put yourself through hell again to get there. I learnt that there is enough stress and crap in my life without me adding extra, and that there actually is a limit to how much stress somebody can handle…..

So. Thats that ok? Im not there anymore, Im forwards from there. Zebra kid has been sick properly and didn’t go to hospital, it happened and I didn’t have a nervous breakdown so I guess we are good. I realise that what P the counsellor in Poland told me about stressing about the stress that hasn’t even arrived yet is a very real thing for me. I was so scared about how I would feel when she got sick for that first time that it actually consumed me. She got sick. I stressed. We found a dr. We managed….. it was all ok in the end! 

I am happy. I am happy with where I am, the kids are happy, we are settled and life is good. I realise also, that I have a lot of guilt about not enjoying it “as much as I should” and not feeling “grateful enough”. Very real emotions that Im putting on myself, nobody else, just me! I set my own bar so bloody high sometimes, all I really can do is fail.

I am not superwoman, or batman, or supermum or even close. The bar doesn’t have to be set at roast dinner with 3 vegetables for dinner, Ive moved it down to cereal for dinner and finally somehow, Im winning a bit (and we haven’t actually had cereal for dinner even twice!).

Im getting my crap together, maybe more because I lowered the bar than because I am better?

I made myself a to do list on Monday morning to make sure I actually accomplished stuff this week. It had 7 things on it, 2 of those things rather major, the sort of stuff I stress about. Well, its Wednesday and the list is complete. And there was NO need to stress. I actually took one thing off the list, because Im being kind to myself and lowering the bar, another thing sorted itself out, and the other I just got on with and did. And not only that, but we had good healthy dinners every day! See, with a lower bar its so much easier to win.

I will fill you all in on everything else one day, but Im in no rush. These things can take time, and its ok. If I dont look after me, nobody else will get looked after.

 

xx

Ostrich.

My head is stuck firmly in the sand. Deep deep in the sand. Everything is so freaking GREAT and I dont WANT to go to the dr, I dont want to start the next step.

We need a pulmonologist to help guide us to lower the dosage of steroids and check her nitric oxide levels.

We need a gastro to help guide us and investigate why she stopped growing again – is it only due to steroids or does she need extra feeding / growth hormones wtf??!!

We need an allergist because holy shit her allergic reactions are getting worse and shes due new testing.

We need a physio who can work with her on her back and help her build muscle safely.

We need an orthopedic doctor to take a look at her spine to see if she needs braces or if physio is enough.

We need a rheumatologist to check her over as she was due a repeat “look over” a few months back.

I AM FUCKING TIRED AND I CANT THINK ABOUT IT ALL RIGHT NOW!

Everything is so great, so WHY??!!!!!!

Head back in sand. Look at the pretty flowers…..

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Welcome to all the newbies (prologue)

So many new “likees” and hits from all over the world. I realise while looking at my blog its an absolute mess. Its trying to be an informative celiac blog, a place for gluten free recipes, something that spreads celiac awareness, and then *laugh snort* life fecking happened! And this little celiac awareness blog website thing went and got totally and utterly side tracked by a ton of other things thats arent very celiac related at all, so now its much more (a mess basically), and I cant really change it because its our life and this is how it happened (guess you just had to be there to understand lol).

So if you can put up with a bit of a mess there is actually some good celiac info hidden in here, info on lunches and letters for school and basics for your kitchen. If you are lost you can use the search box which is in some corner… somewhere… hehe. There is also plenty of Zebra stuff (Zebras will get this!) and spoonie stuff. Anyway, welcome, and thanks for reading 🙂

Linda

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Ambulance tears

I haven’t written since January! Wow. Things have been crazy to say the least… but before I tell you all about all of those things, I want to tell you all something else.

Being one of those mums…… not easy stuff.

I sometimes cry when I see an ambulance with the lights on. I wonder who is in it. I wonder if their heart rate is ok. I wonder if their oxygen is ok and if they are conscious. I wonder if maybe they haven’t even been picked up yet and they are still at home, the ambulance caller frantic with worry wondering how much longer. I wonder if someone is holding their hand and telling them it will be ok. I wonder if the mum or dad or spouse had anyone look at them and say “it will be ok, don’t worry”. I wonder if anyone gave the mum a hug? I wonder if she is ok? And then I realise that Im crying, and I realise that that fear that I felt all those times, that fear that sort of feels like an iron claw around your heart… that fear….. it never really goes away again. Its right there, just below the surface and then there you are, crying at a traffic light because you saw an ambulance……

Its ok to be that mum. Its ok. Its also ok to not be superwoman all the time. There are so many campaigns out there highlighting what depression looks like, teaching us how we can support people in their darkest hour etc. Well, being one of those mums….. its not so dissimilar.

Stress, high stress for extended periods wrecks havoc with your body. For me, I gained weight, lost hair, got grey hairs, I pick at my skin, I eat obsessively or don’t eat at all, I stress over small stuff like whether I left the cooker on, to the point where I can hardly breathe and I might cry. I have days where I cant even function. I have so much that needs to be done and I cant get it together, I cant even manage to put a load of laundry on!

Then, when shit hits the fan Im calm. Im cool as a cucumber, getting everything done and organised, taking care of everybody, joking with the Dr’s, comforting, holding…..

…………….but who takes care of me…..? 

Then after, months after, there I am….. at the traffic lights, crying my eyes out at an ambulance!

Being one of those mums. It is not easy. And when you ask me if Im ok? I’ll put my big brave knickers on and smile my biggest smile and say “Im fine, why wouldn’t I be” because thats just all part of the parcel, and if I told you how I really am… some days…. I might just never stop crying.

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