Going Nuts During the Holidays

For the 45th consecutive year of my life, I survived the holiday season. Christmas. New Years. All that cheer and good tidings. But the gaiety of the season is not that of which I speak. My survival story concerns my body’s lifelong propensity to be adversely affected by the consumption of nuts. Not all nuts. Peanuts I can handle. A doctor once told me that a peanut is more of a bean than it is a nut. Whatever. My major nemesis is the infamous Brazil nut, whose mere appearance disgusts me. Other nuts such as cashews and almonds are lesser enemies of mine, but the mighty Brazil variety of nut has nearly done me in twice. But that’s another column for another time. It seems that people want to put nuts in just about everything sweet, especially during the holidays. Nuts show up in various sorts of pies, cakes, and cookies. They’re lumped in there with pretzels and Chex mix a lot. They’re in banana bread and fruit cakes. I’m ecstatic that fruit cakes have nuts. It gives me a built in excuse to politely decline when offered a slice. My nut allergy has caused me considerable social uneasiness at times. Hosts and hostesses’ faces have burned with embarrassment on more than one occasion when they realized everyone would be having dessert except me. I once ate a piece of pecan pie in a social situation where I felt as though I had no choice. I didn’t die but my throat hurt for a while. But since Brazil nuts are potentially fatal for me- and the aforementioned almonds and cashews are close behind- I have learned to be socially brash at times and demand to know the ingredients of particular delicacies. And I was doing fine until one time in college, a girl I was dating at the time invited me to dinner with the parents and grandparents. Until that night, I never dreamed anyone would place almonds in my green beans. I realized my ignorance just as I was about to swallow my first bite. In front of Grandma and my future not-to-be in-laws, I spat a mouthful of salivated food into my napkin in time to preserve my existence long enough to eventually meet and marry another. Grandma giggled but nobody else was impressed. Recently I spoke to a group of about 150 men. As the speaker, I was allowed to eat first. I was in the middle of an excellent conversation and a sparkling piece of spice cake when I realized I had misjudged the ingredients contained therein. I excused myself to the men’s room and stared at my face, fully expecting it to break out in whelps as I watched. However, the only reaction I had was a tightening of the chest and that irritating scratchiness you get in your mouth and throat when you’ve got Strep. I visited my mental happy place for the next thirty minutes and went on with the show, though I expect my ratings were low. So there you have it. I have survived another season of holiday cheer and baking. If I can convince folks to stop adding nuts to asparagus, pork tenderloin, rice, salad, rocky road ice cream, candied apples, and banana bread- I’ll be okay for the rest of the year.