Broken Bread's Memoir: From Culinary Crisis To Savoring Life

The author always thought broken bread could only signify something good – a basic, ancient form of sustenance or an expression of lovingly sharing. But now, she was “broken.” With her food options unexpectedly and severely restricted due to newly diagnosed autoimmune conditions, initially, she could see no plausible way forward. Due to her overly dramatic disposition, the thought occurred that an exorcism might rid her of these demon conditions. Or, conversely, she could just lure the bloody Devil in, enticing him with bread she could no longer eat, and they’d make a pact allowing her to avoid reality. Ultimately, Colette decided the safest option might entail figuring out how to make dryer lint palatable.

Looking over her life with a bird’s eye view, she realized that some people eat to live, but she’d always loved to eat. As a bread-loving, all-things-carb-laden-gluten-addict, with a preference for Italian food, these foods had always been a dependable soother for an anxious mind that, farcically, dances the jitterbug. With lots of work and the courtesy of time, thankfully, she learned to adapt her mindset to a new reality.