Broken Bread

Colette Ledoux always thought broken bread could only signify something good - a basic, ancient form of sustenance or an expression of lovingly sharing. But now, she was "broken." With her food options unexpectedly and severely restricted due to newly diagnosed autoimmune conditions, initially, she could see no plausible way forward. Due to her overly-dramatic disposition, the thought occurred that an exorcism might rid her of these demon conditions. Or, conversely, she could just lure the bloody Devil in, enticing him with bread she could no longer eat, and they'd make a pact allowing her to avoid reality. Ultimately, Colette decided the safest option might entail figuring out how to make dryer lint palatable.

Looking over her life with a bird's eye view, Colette realized that some people eat to live, but she'd always lived to eat. As a bread loving, all-things-carb-laden-gluten-addict, with a preference for Italian food, these foods had always been a dependable soother for an anxious mind that, farcically, dances the jitterbug. With lots of work and the courtesy of time, thankfully, she learned to adapt her mindset to a new reality.

When writing of her journey, Colette found it a daunting task to add in a sprinkling of favourite recipes that she's adapted to gluten-free (celiac disease is one of the culprits ailing her), including traditional French-Canadian holiday fare. She soon learned, with much frustration, that triple testing recipes while converting them from "a pinch of this and that" to a "formal" measurement requires a certain type of focus - a focus that, much to her surprise, she apparently managed to lose over time. She survived the ordeal, and is delighted that the recipes are included.

So, here she is - a wee tad bit of a wreck who's striving to live her best life with gratefulness, under circumstances that are anything but ordinary. And she's written the book that she had searched for all those years ago, when first diagnosed.