Sometimes a treat is actually a trick. Look at Snow White, salivating at the thought of sinking her teeth into that sweet, crisp, delicious apple…only to fall to the floor after one bite from the poison injected.
I felt a little like Snow White as I bit into a mouth watering, perfectly cooked wood oven pizza on Monday afternoon. Two of the foods I’ve been avoiding for the better part of eight months due to my wonderfully wise (yet sometimes militant) naturopath are gluten and dairy. I’ve had an on-off relationship with dairy over the years due to dabbling with ethical veganism, but most recently was instructed by doctors to re-introduce some animal products back into my diet after a vitamin A deficiency left me without nighttime vision. On Mondy I was with a friend who loves pizza, and on this day I thought, why not! I used to eat this for lunch regularly ten years ago, what better a time than to indulge in this way again?
I have to admit, it was good. And while it was tasty, part of me wondered, is this it? Is this all I’ve been missing? It was almost as if my taste buds had changed and no longer relished the oozy, melty cheese or the crunchy crispy crust in the same way I would have in the past. And then, it hit me.
No, not some dramatic relevation, but a fist in the stomach feeling, as if a large doughy ball were invading my insides, the sinewy cheese wrapping itself around my intestines and strangulating any gut health I had cultivated. How was I going to get home, never mind teach a yoga class in a few hours time?
And then came the bloating. Sparing the details, three days on and I haven’t fully recovered, though sense the worst is behind me and have certainly learned a lesson. A treat can, and should make you feel good; it can even be healthy. Of course, we don’t all have gluten and dairy issues, and yesterday when I offered a special treat to my two and a half year old son he replied “pain chocolat!” I got myself a detox juice and smiled.