“How’s the food.”
It’s the most common question I’m asked during my stay at the Health Science Centre’s Epilepsy Monitoring Unit. Or as I call it: Chez EMU.
And it’s good. It actually is. Okay, the pork is awful. It’s like blubber.
But for the most part, it’s been yummy. I know, weird way to describe hospital food. It’s come a long way since my hospital stays in the 1990s. Dried beef. Pre-chewed chicken. With a medley of mystery veggies.
One of my primary worries coming into the EMU was the food because I’m Celiac. I thought, great, ten days of rice toast for breakfast.
Nope. Waffles! Every morning. GF breakfast cereals. Gluten free sweet potato tots. I swear, I’m eating so many carbs, I’m going to waddle out of here. But who cares – because I didn’t have to cook.
I used to love cooking. In Edmonton, where there an abundance of gluten free products, I was in my glory making beet salads with chicken cordon bleu; beef stew and French bread; and lasagna with garlic toast.
But when I returned to Manitoba, I lost the love for cooking.

Who doesn’t love chocolate ice cream that tastes like mousse?
And when that happens, somehow shoving two chicken breasts in the oven is a task. Dinners are easy when all you do is throw a slab of beef in to cook. Or toss some pasta in a boiling pot of water.
And I countdown to the weekend – when my husband cooks for me. Orange Thai stir frys. Chicken stuffed with cheese and bacon. And his specialty: homemade gluten free Ruebens. Our trade off is fair – when one cooks, the other does the dishes.
I love watching him in the kitchen. Experimenting with beef. Talking to chicken breasts. While stabbing them with a toothpick. He’s come a long way from the night he tried to woo me with salmon steaks and kernel corn.
But there’s something about not having to cook. It’s like sitting in a restaurant. Okay, maybe not, but it’s similar.
You wait. You get a tray. You lift it up, and OMG! Orange sherbet. Sweet and sour pork. Carrot soup.
The Health Science Centre has wooed me with their food.
And they deliver three times a day. With a wet-nap.
And they do the dishes.
hahaha..I hate the smell of wet-naps. Your post made me smile. Your husband sounds like he knows what to do in the kitchen. 🙂
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Thanks. He does. His pork roast with roasted vegetables are the best. 🙂
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