From Hollywood to Kugel
What the heck is a kugel, you ask? Jewish comfort food. And if it's done right- with handfuls of roasted vegetables, fresh herbs, and crunchy toasty gluten-free breadcrumbs- it can make you weep, Bubela. Because kugel is soul food - wrapped in love. But first- as with any good family recipe- a story.
Traveling gluten-free is a challenge. You know this. I know is. And if you are driving to your husband's first movie set you'd be wise to pack a cooler. And a rice cooker. And an electric tea kettle. All of which I did. Every gluten-free goddess deserves safe food, after all. And sometimes you have to be proactive and plan ahead and not be afraid to look like an old school gypsy when you unload your car at the hotel, dragging said appliances and trailing electric plugs down the hall to your room.
Traveling gluten-free is a challenge. You know this. I know is. And if you are driving to your husband's first movie set you'd be wise to pack a cooler. And a rice cooker. And an electric tea kettle. All of which I did. Every gluten-free goddess deserves safe food, after all. And sometimes you have to be proactive and plan ahead and not be afraid to look like an old school gypsy when you unload your car at the hotel, dragging said appliances and trailing electric plugs down the hall to your room.
Hey. It beats getting sick. And it beats going hungry in a town where everything is deep fried and washed down with Coors.
There was Craft Service on the set, of course. And kudos goes to the fabulous caterer, Chad, who actually knew what gluten was [and apparently makes gluten-free Po' Boys back in LA for a certain zaftig blond movie star [with the initials Katherine Heigl- oops- I guess I spilled the beans].
All I dared to eat from his array, per his advice, was bananas, fresh watermelon and a strawberry or two (and okay, some mini peanut butter cups). I lived on peppermint tea and rice cakes and my Sour Cream Blueberry Muffins.
The last day on set (after standing at the rim of the Grand Canyon holding Dear Husband's hand) I conjured a new invention in the rice cooker I'm calling Pizza Rice. Note to self: always bring bottles of herbs and a jar of gourmet pasta sauce, because you never know when you'll be craving something hot and Italian (and no, I don't mean Giovanni Ribisi).
But after all the excitement and lack of sleep and kick-ass creativity and a long ride home snuggled in your Honda Fit admiring your husband's pensive profile against a Southwestern sky, all a gluten-free goddess wants is some old school comfort food while she hefts heaps of laundry past the sweetest newborn bunny holed up in the pinon wood pile and sifts through all those red Netflix envelopes scanning titles and muttering, What was I thinking?
It's comfort you need. The kind of comfort browned and golden and crunchy on top and melty-creamy inside. You know what I'm talking about. It was time for kugel.
And the movie? It's called The Canyon. Listen to a podcast with screenwriter Steve Allrich on Casting Couch Radio.
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