Doesn’t Know Wheat You Mean, Part 2

, , , , | Working | June 20, 2016

(It’s about eight years ago and I am Celiac, which is almost unheard of. There are few foods that never have gluten, and many that may have it, so I never bother to ask when I eat in restaurants and just assume I can’t eat it. I have just finished a steak with a salad.)

Dad: “Are you sure you don’t want any dessert? The ice cream should be gluten-free, and also the meringue cake.”

Me: “It’s too cold for the ice cream, and the meringue may get contaminated in the kitchen. I’m fine.”

Dad: “Nonsense! I’ll just ask a waiter if the cake is gluten-free.” *calls a waiter* “Excuse me, do you know if the meringue contains any gluten?”

Waiter: *without missing a beat* “I don’t know, sir, but I can ask the kitchen if they can add it for you.”

Dad: *struggling to keep a straight face* “Uh, thanks.”

(The poor overworked waiter heard an ingredient that he didn’t know and offered to add it just for us! Now, every time I ask if something is gluten-free, my father offers to add it for me.)


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