Since I’ve been seriously ill, my digestive system has taken on a volcanic mind of its own.
Those of a nervous disposition should look away now.
I have to take medication before I eat anything and be pretty careful about what I eat, nothing too spicy, no onions, not too many veg at one sitting. At home it’s easy to manage, the difficult thing is remembering to eat regularly as my appetite has mostly disappeared.
Control of social situations is more delicate; out with friends I can choose from the menu and push the onions to one side. But recently I was invited to lunch at home by a very old friend I hadn’t seen for ages and it didn’t occur to me to say anything. He served a wonderful pork stew, full of onions, mushrooms and quite spicy. I eat meat once or twice a week as it’s not easy to digest and I never eat pork apart from bacon. So what to do? Of course I ate it and enjoyed it and thought that I would face the consequences later.
Sure enough, on my way home on the tube several hours later, I could feel the orchestra tuning up. I managed to wait until I was in the open air and looked over my shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone too close and then, as my dear old Dad used to say, ‘let the wind sail free’. The full concerto.
I was suddenly reminded of my uncle who ran the village bakery in France. He used to make these delicious deep-fried choux pastries that were so light and sweet they were called ‘pets de nonne’ or nuns’ farts. You can still find the recipe online.