The land of mozzarella

Went to Rome last week.  Had a lovely time, even though it rained most days.  But really, is being in Rome ever a bad thing?

We went to the same restaurant every night.  Not only was the food good, but also they took such good care of me.  I had prepared an allergy card in Italian prior to the trip.  I handed it to my server, who took it to the kitchen and came back with acceptable choices.  On the last day, our waiter had the chef prepare something special for me.  It wonderful.

The only difficulties came from American restaurants:

1. We went to TGI Friday's for lunch at the Atlanta Airport.  When you look at their allergy menu, they essentially advise the milk-allergic to eat NOTHING they serve.  Primarily because their food preparation practices put the allergic at risk of cross-contamination.  Sure enough, I got hit by the butter or margarine they use on the grill.  It wasn't too bad and more or less passed quickly.  Still, it is so frustrating.


2. On our last day, we went to Subway for lunch:  quick and easy, generally safe with lots of choices for me.  Unfortunately, the food handler prepared my sandwich with the same gloves he made my husband's sandwich with and after grabbing a large handful of shredded cheese.  I should have known better, but I don't think that I have quite completely accepted the extent and degree of my allergy.  I really didn't think it would be a problem.  Boy, have I been paying for that miscalculation since.  My symptoms still haven't completely run their course six days later.  It seems that the pain in my gut lasts longer and is worse with every exposure.  When will I learn?

Appointment with the allergist in July.  I hope to remain dairy free until then.  With a little luck and competence, he'll be able to tell me when to worry and how to treat any incidental exposures.  After all, there almost certainly will be incidental exposures.  With my work, I have to eat out, and I haven't yet learned how to ensure my food is safe for me to eat.