When it comes to taking dining risks, I'm a big rubbery wimp. I waited five long gluten-free years before I even dared to consider eating out. The dangers of cross contamination scare the living daylights out of me. Why?
Back in my more innocent g-free newbie days I got sick at a friend's house. She was hosting a dinner party. Thinking I'd play it safe, I brought a pot of my homemade pumpkin soup. She thanked me, then stirred it with her ancient wooden spoon. Misery ensued.
But this winter I decided to be bold.