‘In my job I get to visit some extraordinary houses . . .

Would that I could describe for you the carefully crafted lunch I tote to work daily. A clever compartmentalised designer box replete with keen-wa (life’s too short to spell that stuff), bean sprouts and super fruits a-plenty. Sadly the truth is far more prosaic.

Right now on my desk is half a bag of gluten-free porridge, a squeezy honey and no-added sugar strawberry jam (unopened). There’s also an empty Bewleys coffee cup – a daily staple. Most mornings I’m running out the door, so the gluten-free porridge and honey are part of a renewed commitment to eat a proper breakfast, though more often than not this becomes lunch.

The gluten-free element is not a faddish “wheat free” affectation I’m afraid. Having been diagnosed coeliac about seven years ago I’ve had to adjust my diet, but it’s been a very long and dreary learning curve. Symptoms aren’t sufficiently bad that I will suffer hugely if I transgress, and I do so quite frequently. However that’s not such a good idea in the long term, so I’m eternally renewing my efforts.

The truth is that coeliac disease and lunch on the go are not happy bedfellows. Yes, gluten-free bread exists, but nothing, and I mean nothing, comes close to fresh wheaty bread, or a crusty baguette. Lots of soups and convenience foods have gluten included also. Pastry and pastas are no-nos. Luckily chocolate and sweets are by and large gluten-free, and if they aren’t, I don’t want to know. So I’m usually good for a junk run in the afternoon, and first in line for any GF treats that land into the office.

When I do get out for lunch I always ask if they have gluten-free bread and it is unbelievable how many places don’t have it, and clearly think it’s more my problem than theirs. It’s not hard to keep some in the freezer people, and lash it in the toaster on request. It’s you I blame for those chips portions, when I could be downing a less damaging sandwich, or soup and bread.

In my job I get to visit some extraordinary and interesting houses. Sadly, by the time I arrive often the kitchen has been firmly closed to guests. A general rule of thumb I’ve found is: “The bigger the house, the smaller the offering.”