No Seriously, Pass the Plate
I used to look at the peanut-free table like a floating rock for the weak, but now, being an islander myself, I can’t imagine how isolating that must’ve felt as a second grader.
Allergies are not common, so they often get shoved to the side in an attempt to "protect" those who deal with them. But here’s the thing: sometimes, these protections can feel more like exclusion mechanisms— ways to keep us away from the dining scene entirely.
The "peanut-free table" isn’t just a seat at the table; it’s a metaphor for the way allergies often push us out of shared experiences. Food is a central part of life, of culture, and of community, and when you have allergies, dining and eating can feel like you’re on the outside looking in.
Unless you’re eating a raw diet, food tastes good because it is the artistic and scientific combination of ingredients. But for those of us with allergies, these ingredients can be both threatening and intimidating. We have to be cautious about what goes into our bodies, constantly fearing that the wrong crumb might put everything at risk.
Luckily, I don’t have to walk around with an Epi-pen — the thing keeping me safe from a bad crumb is myself. For all of us with allergies though, eating out is more than just a meal— it’s a decision that involves trust and a leap of faith.
The obvious answer: stay at home and make your own food. Now, those following the “food is fuel” philosophy might entertain that reality, but I say: HELL TO THE NO. While I will never be lucky to have celiac, I am grateful for the world I live in today: how accepting the restaurant industry is to allergies.
I’ve worked as a hostess now for two brands on opposite ends of the restaurant spectrum: a family-style, locally-owned taqueria and a high-end spot that’s part of a larger corporate operation. Being behind the scenes in the restaurant world has given me much more comfort when it comes to eating out. It’s shown me that hospitality hasn’t withered away when it comes to allergies; in fact, it’s grown stronger. Sure, the bottom line is that restaurants want you to eat so they can make money, but it’s also about more than that…
The restaurant industry has seemingly dismantled the concept of the peanut-free table together, offering dishes to me, a gluten-free foodie, and to you, hopefully, someone with endless options, a chance to share!
While the occasional “Sorry, Leah” is muttered when dishes simply can’t be modified (and I get it—the crab cake just doesn’t work without the flour), I find myself saying “No, seriously— pass the plate” more times than not.
It takes time, though… I almost punched a server when he told me, “That sucks... sorry, we only have one option for you.” But that was three years ago, and I’m sure the guy was having a bad day. Nonetheless, navigating those first couple of months with a gluten allergy was a real eye-opener. I didn’t know how many foods contained gluten, and I had to go on an intense research expedition to understand which ingredients gave me the green light.
So, while I may know how to read a food label with my gluten-free glasses on, the average shopper or menu browser doesn’t know that whey protein concentrate is a big no-no, whereas modified tapioca starch is totally fine.
Now, I don’t expect you to waste your time diving deep into the hidden world of gluten-free ingredients— it’s been a revealing journey for me. Substitutes like corn, rice, and chickpeas are key to so many dishes across Mexican, Vietnamese, and Indian cuisines, and boy, have I had my fair share. Next time you’re dreaming about a bowl of pho or a street taco, just remember— your gluten-free friend can join in without a second thought.
After all, great food is meant to be shared—everyone’s invited.