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Day 2: If I knew that whatever I ate next would be my last meal, what would I want it to be?
My husband and I have long joked that our last meal will be cheesecake. That's because it would probably kill us. We're both significantly sensitive to dairy, as well as the gluten in the pie crust.
I grew up eating dairy and never made the connection between feeling yucky and tired and eating the cheese and ice cream I loved. My favorite foods were "Mexican" and "Italian," meaning anything with cheese.
I didn't give up cheese to improve my health. I stopped eating dairy on a temporary basis when I got pregnant with a baby whose father was severely allergic to dairy. Nowadays dairy is linked to development of type 1 diabetes, which my husband has.
Anyway, I never did go back to dairy, at least not on a permanent basis. When I did try eating after a long absence, I felt so awful it was in-my-face obvious that dairy and I were not meant to be.
That's how I discovered my love for dark chocolate. I'd never much cared for chocolate before. Now it took on new significance in my life, mostly that it was a rare goodie I could have. Nowadays I really appreciate the complex flavors and health benefits.
If dark chocolate turns out to be my last meal, I'll go happy, and it won't have killed me, so we can remain friends forever.
