I was at this market looking at these vegetables yesterday. Aix-en-Provence (near Marseilles) is, if I have anything to say about it, my new second home.

Throughout my travels (April until now) I have had only one gluten mishap, at a restaurant on the port in a town called Cassie. It was a salad, and I still don’t know what was in it.

French households have been overwhelmingly easy to manoeuvre, though. They put the bread on one side, whip out the plastic cooking utensils and go. We cut vegetables and meat on plates if I forgot my mini plastic cutting board, and ate like queens and kings every night without problems or complaints.

Now I’m in London and things are a little more difficult. If anyone has any tips for the rest of my week here, please send them to our e-mail at the top of the page.

Upcoming: The Irish Celiac Curiosity, and My French Friends’ Food Customs 

La vie est belle, mes amis sans gluten!