tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-351737142012-02-16T02:53:02.441-05:00Travel articles focused on destination, for people with celiac disease.Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.comBlogger301100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-79163750666176796802011-05-24T09:11:00.011-04:002011-05-24T14:41:15.611-04:00

In the beginning of a 7-day Western Caribbean Cruise aboard the Celebrity Solstice, I had high hopes for a relaxing gluten-free vacation. What I got instead was a celiac story comparable to the creation story from the Book of Genesis. As in, “In the beginning...the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep.” In my case, it was the ship’s handling of my

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-47763852530412455802011-04-06T13:09:00.000-04:002011-04-06T13:09:45.337-04:00

“The best meal I’ve had since we lived in Italy,” was how I described my lunch at Amici Miei to my husband, making him extremely jealous that he hadn’t been with me. Instead, I dined with a friend who’d noticed gluten-free pasta was on the menu of this Potomac, MD neighborhood Italian restaurant, and she immediately thought of me. Amici Miei, which means “My Friends,” does not have a

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-15094484759700095562011-01-12T21:28:00.021-05:002011-05-24T15:12:22.377-04:00

It was my mother-in-law’s idea to go to the Bahamas. I wanted to go to California. She desired a tropical location – turquoise waters and golden beaches - for a multi-generation family vacation. I’d already mapped out a quintessential Golden State summer road trip for my husband, me, and our three sons, ages 13, 16, and 20. My mother-in-law said she was paying. I started picturing myself sipping

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-6551149121995507722009-10-19T15:39:00.003-04:002009-10-19T16:03:07.083-04:00

Commemorations and sorrow engulfed our nation once again this past September 11, now known as Patriot Day. In newsprint, on the airwaves, and even on Facebook, people recalled where they were, what they were doing, and their reaction to the horrendous events that September morning in 2001.I was living in a suburb of Dayton, OH and had just pulled into a nearly deserted parking lot at the shopping

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-28550036786919532292009-08-04T13:16:00.002-04:002009-08-04T13:22:11.573-04:00

I was in NYC two weeks ago with my husband and three boys, ages 12, 15, and 19. We were there for only 2 nights so had time to check out just a few of the many restaurants that are celiac-friendly.As with most destinations, and perhaps even more true for a city like New York, where you choose to eat has a lot to do with where you're staying and what you're doing when mealtime rolls around.More

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-91287358870789506272009-05-16T21:02:00.005-04:002009-05-16T21:34:36.093-04:00

December 2008Some travel destinations are so entwined with their gastronomical pleasures that they seem to shout at us: IT’S ALL ABOUT THE FOOD! Think New Orleans’ famous Cajun and Creole cooking, or how synonymous San Francisco is with “California Cuisine,” a form of dining that champions eating in-season local ingredients and which introduced us to fusion cooking and artful presentation.And

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-74649744298227024192009-03-19T11:08:00.007-04:002009-03-25T11:07:40.899-04:00

In preparation for my trip to Atlanta to visit a friend, I'm putting together a list of places where I can get gluten-free food. As of now, all of this information is gleaned from other sources, including the celiac listserv and personal blogs.Pizza Fusion in Buckhead, http://www.pizzafusion.com/. They do make gluten pizzas here as well, but also take precautions to prevent cross-contact with the

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-53329553412885668182009-01-30T11:50:00.003-05:002009-09-20T16:00:57.893-04:00

There’s a war going on in Washington, DC that has nothing to do with Iraq, Afghanistan, the upcoming presidential election, or the economy. Instead, it’s a battle about something that fits in the palm of your hand, requires experience with chemical reactions, and, um, tastes sweet. This is a war about one of the city’s latest food fads: cupcakes.I don’t know exactly when cupcakes took front line

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-73419933718218811442008-04-09T08:52:00.002-04:002008-08-29T17:15:28.615-04:00

Two days after my 45th birthday, I sent my husband off to work, took the kids to school, and made my way to the airport where I checked a single bag through to New Zealand. Then, with only the slightest twinge of guilt about my solo jaunt, I shouldered my daypack containing a few gluten free snacks and other essentials, boarded the plane, and never looked back.Now, some people might say I was

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-87566621042956012162008-04-08T13:09:00.002-04:002008-04-29T12:25:59.602-04:00

There comes a time in every parent’s life when we have to let go. Even though I’m not quite there yet with my oldest son, I know it’s coming soon. He’s a senior in high school, after all, with college looming just around the corner. So why do I feel so unprepared for this next stage?Maybe it’s because I’ve been so darn busy lately. Moving back to the U.S. after living in Italy for two years has

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-10901123134644415162007-11-26T13:06:00.000-05:002007-11-26T14:02:49.311-05:00

I recently traveled to the UK (England and Scotland) for the very first time and found it relatively easy to eat gluten-free. Many restaurants were familiar with celiac (coeliac) and weren't put off by my requests. Here are a few discoveries:1) Jacket potatoes, with various toppings, are a meal standard, and are usually served with a side salad. Gluten-free and cheap.2) Marks & Spencer has

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-89477137124739060682007-11-26T09:46:00.004-05:002008-11-10T20:41:36.271-05:00

Book store and library shelves are chock-full of guidebooks to help travelers get the most out of their trip to Italy. Advice is offered about which famous sites to see, where to stay, and what to eat. But not a single guidebook points the celiac traveler in the direction of a gluten-free meal!Below, then, is a list of some of the major tourist destinations in Italy and the names of restaurants

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-64389390225990916552007-11-26T09:35:00.000-05:002007-11-26T09:45:48.946-05:00

A typical Italian breakfast consists of a pastry and a cup of cappuccino (a coffee concoction of espresso, steamed milk, and frothed milk). In some small hotels, and especially in Italian B&B’s, this may be the only items offered. Some larger hotels offer a breakfast buffet, with yogurt, cheese, and possibly eggs. I’ve fared the best in my travels around Italy when I’ve carried my own breakfast

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-33835539575023913662007-11-26T09:25:00.000-05:002007-11-26T09:35:09.236-05:00

I moved to northern Italy with my husband and our three sons two years ago. My husband’s job as a military officer was the reason for the move – he had no choice but to answer the “call to duty.” As for me, I heeded the “call to journey - with celiac disease.”Prior to the move, numerous family members and friends had expressed concern about how I would manage my gluten-free diet while living in

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-58215347873334437782007-06-20T04:18:00.001-04:002011-01-30T13:38:06.964-05:00

Sitting in La Terrasse du 7ème, a busy Parisian café just down the street from where Napoleon Bonaparte received his military training at the imposing Ecole Militaire, I was overcome with panic. Before being seated, I’d cautiously asked the headwaiter, David, who was impeccably dressed in a lavender-colored shirt, if he spoke English. He smiled and answered that yes, he did. Then, I bravely gave

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-888528932222451952007-03-31T03:02:00.000-04:002007-03-31T03:22:55.594-04:00

“A well-planned trip is more fun, less expensive, and not necessarily more structured,” writes Rick Steves, my favorite travel guidebook author. “Planning means understanding your alternatives and choosing what best fits your travel dreams.” I’d like to add that for the celiac traveler, a well-planned trip can also mean the difference between finding gluten-free foods and the alternative: going

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-54844796538234256212007-03-19T11:34:00.000-04:002007-03-19T11:57:48.334-04:00

Changing planes in Amsterdam recently, my family and I stopped to check the departure board for information about our connecting flight from Italy to the United States. The board was huge, with a seemingly endless list of destinations – direct flights to 260 places in 91 countries according to airport figures – each one sounding more exotic than the last. Barcelona, Prague, Mombassa, Lima, Abu

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-21067770515671334742007-02-02T08:53:00.000-05:002007-03-17T15:41:27.288-04:00

It looked like a typical Tyrolean village of western Austria, with gable-roofed buildings, whitewashed and timbered, clustering around a tiny town square. Gaily painted shutters festooned many of the houses, doing double duty as picture frames to the purple impatiens and hardy red geraniums trickling out of the ever-present window boxes. Some structures even featured elaborate medieval, religious

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-85887355203315973772007-01-03T10:09:00.000-05:002007-03-17T15:42:41.489-04:00

It was a crazy trip. Eleven-and-a-half hours on the overnight train from my house north of Venice, to Naples, three-quarters of the way down the boot of Italy. A sleepless night of endless undulation, each lurch of the train sending me to the edge of the bed that was as hard as an ironing board and only slightly wider. And the only thing worse than shivering all night beneath the thread-bare

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-11988588867741229792006-11-28T08:54:00.002-05:002011-01-30T13:42:51.275-05:00

My first stop on a recent weekend getaway to Belgium was a grocery store called Delhaize. It was one of the local chain’s showcase stores, in Antwerp, the main city of Flemish-speaking northern Belgium. Filled to the brim with seasonal European produce, fresh bounty from the nearby North Sea, and a variety of dairy products from neighboring Holland, a tour around the store was more fun than a

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-35832391684656386472006-11-23T16:17:00.000-05:002007-03-19T11:56:25.936-04:00

The temperature outside was hot. Over 100 degrees. Aboard the high-speed ferry boat skimming across the Aegean Sea, we were cool and comfortable. The five-hour passage from Santorini to Athens was also peaceful. My family spent it reveling in the relaxation accrued during the previous ten days hopping around the Greek islands of Samos, Mykonos, Naxos, and Santorini. When the boat throttled down

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-31137279683170831712006-11-20T09:06:00.000-05:002007-03-19T11:55:57.341-04:00

Standing by the letterbox on the Island of Mykonos, my hand hesitated to release the stack of postcards written by my children to their friends back in the States. While innocently written, the one from my nine-year-old son cited activities from our two-week family vacation in Greece that could be misconstrued. Namely, the day at the beach when he counted eighteen topless women sunning themselves

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-50340264694117914102006-11-20T02:57:00.000-05:002007-03-19T11:54:00.768-04:00

Even before I knew I was moving to Italy last year, I knew where I’d be vacationing this summer: Greece. I really had no choice.Greece was one of my husband’s early military assignments, and with the ink on our marriage certificate barely dry, it had been "our" first assignment as husband and wife. As such, it became the proving ground of my new and foreign life as a military spouse.

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-53951874465864204302006-11-12T05:37:00.000-05:002007-03-19T11:55:17.040-04:00

“Ahh, Umbria,” was the simple answer to my question. And exactly the type of reaction I was seeking to help me decide where to travel during my children’s spring break. Eager to shed the long cold winter of northern Italy, along with its cumbersome coats, hats, and mittens, I’d been leaning heavily toward warm and sunny Sicily as our April getaway. However, I was also intrigued by a post on the

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-1162889250763044822006-11-07T03:25:00.001-05:002011-04-18T11:18:34.970-04:00

Art, shopping, and food. To me, these are the core ingredients for almost any vacation recipe. When these components also happen to be the finest in the world, such as Michelangelo’s sculpture of David, famous Italian fashion houses (think Ferragamo shoes), and a host of restaurants with gluten free menus, I know the destination is Florence. Located in the region of Tuscany, Florence is the

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-1162810433940057802006-11-06T05:12:00.000-05:002007-03-19T11:53:31.104-04:00

I’ll always remember my first time. In a European city, that is. I was a nineteen-year old college sophomore traveling with a couple of friends for the winter holiday break. The city was Rome.Typical students, we didn’t have a lot of money. Meager means paid for a shared hotel room, meals, and visiting some of the city’s most famous sites known only through art classes and dry ancient history

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-1162806114764303322006-11-06T03:26:00.000-05:002007-03-19T11:52:45.616-04:00

“Venice is the most beautiful city in the world,” wrote an interminable traveling friend in a recent letter to me. "I am envious you are living so close to it.” Like many other travelers who visit this city of a hundred islands and 400 bridges, my friend fell in love with Venice. Whether it is the hazy image of a forgotten era, a timeless walk through the mysterious winding alleys, or the

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-1161844690478320162006-10-26T02:13:00.000-04:002007-01-03T11:01:01.466-05:00

My life in Italy is not like "Under the Tuscan Sun." That's author Frances Mayes' story about buying and remodeling an old farmhouse in the Italian region of Tuscany. Her words paint vivid pictures of agricultural areas with olive groves and vineyards, give us glimpses of medieval towns, and offer us a taste of the natural rhythmic lifestyle of the region, complete with local recipes.It's a way

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-1161764178922172922006-10-25T03:51:00.000-04:002007-01-03T13:03:04.531-05:00

I moved to Italy. Not permanently, but for at least a year or two. The length of stay is dependent upon my husband’s military job, which is what brought me here in the first place. As it’s not permanent, though, my family and friends look upon it as an extended vacation for me. I am the envy of them all.Of all European countries, Italy seems to be America’s favorite. Few other places can compete

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35173714.post-1159439500641348522006-09-28T06:29:00.000-04:002007-01-03T13:03:35.593-05:00

Once a person is diagnosed with celiac disease, traveling is never again the same. It doesn’t matter if the trip is across town or around the world - it simply takes on more meaning and becomes something more akin to an odyssey. After all, most people do not travel with a suitcase full of breads, crackers, and cookies, and maybe even a toaster. Likewise, tucked inside that travel book with its

Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17018059048013295097noreply@blogger.com0