I Dream of Gluten

I'm conducting an experiment.

The experiment is called Life Without Gluten and, yes, it's a bit of a nightmare. Okay, so "nightmare" is a total exaggeration. It's really not terrible. It's interesting, mostly, and I feel much less shakiness, crankiness, and anger at the world than when I first went vegan, or that time I thought it'd be interesting to cut out sugar completely, or when I tried to remove all carbohydrates from my life. Or the raw foods experiment, or the cleanses that I've tried (which, I'm completely convinced, result in a removal of your soul, not toxins), or even the experiment in which I tried to cut out coffee (does it count as an experiment if it only lasts ten hours?).

It began this week, on Wednesday and, look, it's Sunday and hardly anyone has suffered from my gluten test so far! My good friend Aimee was in town this past week, and we went with a big crew to The Publican for a trillion courses of meat, with some vegetables and beer thrown in for good measure. Going to a beer-focused restaurant is a little funny for me, since I have what I lovingly call a "beer condition," but I was happy just focusing on the meat showcase. (If you'd like to know, I don't drink beer because of its really strange effects on my body, including but not limited to: congestion, runny nose, instant headache and over-the-top bloating of fingers and toes, the feeling of my intestines being twisted into elaborate knots, scratchy throat, watery eyes, and the feeling of blood pumping all too quickly in my veins.) Anyway, Aimee and I got to talking about beer, and how it affects us both similarly. We talked about whether or not it was gluten that caused the problem, but I was adamant in pointing out that other gluten-things don't have that effect on me. The Other Gluten likes to live in my body, right? Right?

Aimee and I talked about a two-week stint of gluten-free life that she had, and how she felt really amazing the whole time, unburdened by wheat's overbearing gluey presence in her body. It was this, coupled with the fact that I felt really great after eating a meal comprised of just meat and vegetables, that made me think as I was driving home from dinner, what if I tried to cut out gluten? One month! I thought. Which then turned into well, maybe 2 weeks. Which turned into okay, 1 week. Now that I am merely on day 5 of the gluten cleanse, I am wondering if this week could please, please speed up.

Don't get me wrong, I feel pretty great. And I have an incredible new-found respect for folks who are gluten-free because they have to be, whether it's because of Celiac disease, an allergy, an intolerance, or some other medical condition. It's not easy. I suppose it's something that you just get used to if you have to, like any other dietary withholding plan, but, still. Gluten is everywhere. Gluten is especially everywhere in my cooking repertoire, because, in case you didn't know, I sort of have this love of bread. You know, bread. With flour in it. Agh, something as amazing as good bread, or a good pastry, or pasta, for crying out loud -- how can these things be so lovable, yet so evil at the same time? Hence, you know, the nightmare. The big, bad, gluten nightmare.

In honor of gluten-free week, I've decided to share a gluten memory with you, so that I may live vicariously through the description. I first made this recipe about a month ago, and it knocked my socks off. If you're a Bon Appétit reader, then you saw this recipe in the last issue: pop tarts. It's rare that I read a recipe in a magazine and immediately run with it into my kitchen, madly tossing everything aside so that I can create it as soon as humanly possible. In fact, I don't think it's ever happened before. You know, you fold down the corner of a page, or you put in a post-it note, or you tear out the page and think, this will be good to make some day. Rarely do recipes make me stand up and head into the kitchen, but this, I knew, was special.

I had sort of an obsession with pop tarts during my freshman year of college, they being one of the ultimate convenience foods and all, and I collected all the box fronts and adorned the wall of my dorm room with them. If this sounds like an exquisite interior decorating approach, you are correct. It was. It was also rooted in that collecting fever that college kids get -- you know, the empty liquor bottles lined up in every college boy's house, or the beer can tower at the college party -- and this was my version, my way of proving my consumption, I suppose, and my "adult" choices. Accordingly, by sophomore year I was pretty burned out. After college, I realized that pop tarts were disgusting (very few things are disgusting when you're in college -- have you noticed this?) and I found the Nature's Path organic, non-chemical variety (the "toaster pastries"), but never really thought they were all that delicious -- just convenient, mainly.

I thought and thought about creating a pop tarts recipe, but never really got around to it, which was precisely why I was so thrilled when I came across my homemade pop tart dream, plastered on the pages of Bon Appétit. The recipe sounds like a pain and (I won't lie) it's not the easiest thing you'll ever make, but it will be worth it. Once you get the hang of it, it won't seem half as bad, kind of like when you realize how ridiculously easy and fast it is to make pie crust or pizza dough -- after you've made it 4 or 5 times, you wonder why you spent so long not making it. This pop tart recipe only makes eight pastries, but the great thing is that you can double it and freeze them in an airtight container for a few months (though I bestow upon you honors if you can make them last that long) and have them ready to bake at a moment's notice.

The recipe also suggests dusting them with powdered sugar at the end, although I have this unnatural aversion to the consumption of powdery things, so I opted for a glaze, which, ultimately, makes them more like "real" pop-tarts anyway. Although, in writing that, I sort of wince, squint, and tilt my head all at once, thinking that this new version, well, this is the real pop tart. Chock full of gluten, sugar, and sweet, sweet love, this is what every pop tart should be.

Unbelievable, Life-Changing Pop Tarts
adapted from Bon Appétit magazine

2 cups plus 2 tablespoons all purpose flour plus additional for shaping and rolling
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 tablespoons ice water
12 tablespoons jam or preserves (any flavor! I used a combination of strawberry and apricot.)

Whisk 2 cups plus 2 tablespoons flour, salt, and sugar in large bowl. Add butter. Using fingertips or back of fork, blend in butter until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add ice water by tablespoonfuls, tossing until moist clumps form. Gather dough into ball. Divide in half; shape each half into disk. Wrap in plastic. Chill at least 1 hour.

Line 2 large rimmed baking sheets with parchment. Working with 1 disk at a time, roll out dough on floured surface to about 13x11 inches. You might want to roll it while it is in the plastic wrap -- I found that it cracks less when you do it like that. I then folded in the sides in order to make a rectangle shape.
Cut into eight (roughly) 5x3-inch rectangles.
Arrange 4 rectangles, spaced apart, on each sheet. Spoon 1 1/2 tablespoons preserves in row down center of each rectangle.
Top preserves with second dough rectangle. Using fingertips, gently press all edges of each tart to seal; press all edges with tines of fork to double-seal. Using a toothpick, poke a few holes in center of top dough rectangle.
Cover; freeze tarts on sheets at least 2 hours and up to 1 week.
Position 1 rack in top third and 1 rack in bottom third of oven and preheat to 375°F. Bake frozen tarts uncovered until golden, reversing sheets after 15 minutes, 25 to 30 minutes total (some preserves may leak out). Immediately transfer tarts to rack. Cool slightly, then whisk up a thick glaze of powdered sugar, milk, a tiny pinch of salt, a little vanilla, and some lemon (or orange) zest. Spoon glaze over the pop tarts and let it set for a little while -- but not too long, because the pop tarts are definitely best when they are still warm.

These pop tarts are delicious for a snack, or for a dessert. They can be eaten for breakfast, although you may want to ditch the glaze if you're having them in the morning, as the glaze makes them pretty sweet. They are really, really terrific with a cup of coffee, or an espresso. They are just really, really terrific in general. They will make you sort of sink into your seat and murmur loving coos of pleasure to no one in particular, and that, I think, is a sure sign of deliciousness, gluten or not.