“It’s imported from Italy, though fortunately, we have started to see it more often on grocery store shelves in the U.S.,” she says. Meanwhile, Teona Khaindrava-the owner of Senza Gluten, a 100-percent gluten-free Italian restaurant in New York-says that her favorite brand is La Veneziane. He recommends drizzling olive oil on the pasta as soon as it’s finished so it doesn’t stick to itself, while his favorite preparation is his wife’s: a cold pasta salad with pesto and peas. And no, you can’t tell they are gluten-free.” On the other hand, writer David Fishkind, who is gluten-free for health reasons, swears by BioNaturae’s rice and lentil-based pasta. “Now everyone eats it, not just my kid! They are super easy to make: versatile, soft, and pillowy just like they should be. “He wouldn’t eat anything, and then I managed to make him this veggie gnocchi,” she says. One of Giacobetti’s go-tos is a gluten-free gnocchi-a particularly successful choice, as gnocchi already has potato helping out in the starch department-that she first developed for her baby son. (She also makes a gluten-free version of one of the trickiest baking challenges in the book, classic Italian panettone. First, I spoke to the Paris-based chef Jeanne Giacobetti who not only specializes in wheat-free baking, but even sells her own bespoke gluten-free flour mixes. Going beyond my personal experience, however, I also decided to ask people who specialize in pasta (whether gluten-free or traditional) for their expert advice. I once made Gabrielle Hamilton’s “ scratchy husband pasta”-a confection of anchovies, chilies, garlic, and parmesan that uses buckwheat soba as a pasta base-and found it delectably nutty, for example. I’ve also found that naturally gluten-free Asian noodles like soba and rice vermicelli can do the job surprisingly well after being dressed with Italian sauce and cheese. For me, it took many weeks of steering clear of bread for my swelling to go down, and I’m still not all the way back to my normal bagel-eating form. After a few months of abstemiousness, she was back on the sauce (and the noodles). Luckily for my friend, her gluten intolerance-the greatest tragedy that can befall an Italian-was temporary. My Italian friend knew exactly what had happened, because the same thing had happened to her a few years before: it was the glutine. Two months into this hedonistic lifestyle-in which I seemed to have forgotten that I am, in fact, a rather delicate flower-I began getting itchy eyes, swollen cheeks, and red blotchy skin. Every morning I would wake up and eat a cornetto, for lunch I would have a piece of pizza rossa followed by a gelato with whipped cream, and for dinner, I would usually have a bowl of pasta amatriciana. Suffice it to say, I have been paying for this ever since. Sure, I have always had a delicate constitution, but while I was there, I decided to throw caution to the wind. A few summers ago, I lived in Italy-and almost broke my stomach.
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