I am my own chef

This morning for breakfast I crushed 7-8 brazil nuts and 2 walnuts together and stirred in stevia, cinnamon and flax oil. Then I cut up a banana and threw it in. It was super yummy. It was all the warm fuzzy of banana nut bread.

The salads I've been making with savoy cabbage give me a similar warm fuzzy about a salad my mom used to make. My mom's salad was savoy cabbage thinly sliced with cubed chicken, crushed ramen noodles, roasted slivered almonds, and a sweet but tangy dressing whose contents I don't remember. My salad is just savoy cabbage, roasted slivered almonds, oil & vinegre. I was very happy the first time I thought to add the almonds. I've missed that salad a lot.

And this is a weird example, but I also have a recipe to replace stuffed peppers. I never ate them as a kid, but I was missing the smell (and the flavor I thus imagined) of them cooking in my parents' house. I cooked wild rice and let it cool, and then mixed it into ground turkey. Then I made meatballs and put them in a stock pot with oil and cubed green pepper. I cooked it on medium until the meatballs were browned, and then simmered for another 15 minutes. The flavors all cooked together it and it smelled right and tasted even better.

These recipes don't make me sick, and they scratch the itch to eat those foods.

For the first year I was on the rotation diet, I didn't eat flour of any kind. There were so many other things to worry about, I didn't try to bake anything. I was reacting to corn and potatoes, and sweet potatoes were not on sunflower seed day, so I didn't have any chips to eat either. When I first got down the recipe book to try buckwheat pancakes, I felt pretty pessimistic. The ingredients are buckwheat flour, oil, water, and salt & vitamin c crystals for leavening. But I made them and sat down to eat one. It felt so luxurious spreading the tablespoon of walnut oil over the pancake. The emotion of it hit me when it touched my lips, before I even tasted it, and when I tasted it... I cried. It was so smooth and delicate and sweet and the stress of all the deprivation in the prior 12 months and the strange austerity of the whole project, feeling like a monk living alone in the woods. The pleasure of it was just so intense and the sudden full knowledge of exactly what I had been going without.