Addio, Nutella

I have had to give up Nutella.

F.O.R.E.VE.R.

I know. I had no words either.

Because the universe is basically just a massive asshole, I have developed a digestive or immune intolerance to mainly peanuts but other nuts too. Particularly peanut oil.

I’ve been having these hideous stomach cramps for a few months and each time they would get worse. Sometimes they’d pass quickly and sometimes it lasts overnight.

Because I’m obviously a diy self taught qualified web Doctor, trained by Google and have considerable experience as an internet diagnosis specialist, I went straight to the internet trying to diagnose myself. I started with cancer and worked my way back through the symptoms.

I was at the point of “next time this happens I’m going to the hospital” when I started looking at food intolerances. It usually happens at least a couple of hours after I’ve eaten, but usually longer. It didn’t take long to work out it was likely nuts but after last thursday’s awful night spent in agony after eating fried seaweed topped with peanuts in a chinese restaurant that I’m 99% sure of the cause.

It was so bad that I nearly didn’t get on the plane to run the Australian Outback Marathon last weekend. Half an hour before I had to go to the airport I was in the kitchen with my head on the bench crying. I told Rob I just couldn’t go, that I could not get on a plane feeling like this. He reminded me that every time this happens it passes so to get on and deal with it, as painful as it is, and know that sooner or later it will stop. That it did on the way to the airport and all was good.

Now dieting for me isn’t usually too much of a problem. I’m very obsessive and good at getting totally nutty (sorry, I couldn’t help it) about things so when I eliminate foods for dieting purposes and usually marathon training, I can do it but I probably take it too far. I’m not very good at moderation, which is really handy if you’re restricting things but it can also be very dangerous with certain things – hence why I don’t drink any longer.

When I am on the wagon I’m really good but when I fall off is when things get messy. This can be anything, food, alcohol, shopping, running – all things I have had to learn to curb or cut out altogether.

Having said all that, we are talking about someone here who has a serious Nutella problem. I have blogged about it many times. Here and here and here and here and here. (there are more, but 6, 7, 8 or 9 heres didn’t sound as good as 5).

I have quit a million things before. Sugar, cigarettes, alcohol, wotsits, sour cream .. all things I loved and consumed too much of. All of them I have quit successfully. Ok maybe not the sugar.

All of them except for Nutella.

Its chocolatey deliciousness, it’s crack like addictiveness, the instant feeling of satisfaction when the casserole spoon of it tries to fill my mouth (no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the whole thing in yet).

I love it so much it even has its own category on my blog page. What will I put there now? It’s so terrible I can hardly bear to think about it.

About a year ago, I tried to quit Nutella for good. I lasted a couple of months before I relapsed into its heavenly clasp and I declared I would never try to part with it again. That it was a habit I was prepared to live with. ‘I run marathons so therefore I can eat kilos of palm oil and hazelnuts’, I used to tell myself.

Well no longer. Alas.

When I told my trainer this, expecting a warm bear hug of sympathy, he looked at me and said…

wait for it …..

“THIS IS GOOD, STEPH. REALLY REALLY GOOD. What a great way to quit something”.

I nearly hit him. I swear to God my eyes filled with tears. This is not good. If you’d told me I had kidney stones I’d be happier. Or appendicitis. I can live without both those – but Nutella I can not.

It’s just shit. So so so so shit.

When I told one of my friends she said “that is so unfair, look how skinny you’re going to be without all that shit you eat”. I’d not thought of that before and it doesn’t really help because I’d rather be a few kg heavier and still be able to hide in the pantry and eat Nutella straight from the jar without anyone seeing me.

My safe haven, my happy place. GONE.

Without Nutella I will lose part of my identity. I am known for Nutella. Strangers send me links to stories about it and post recipes to my Facebook page at least once or twice a week.

It’s an absolutely desperate and sad state of affairs.

So if anyone needs me I’ll be in the pantry with the sour cream. My old friend who I banished a few years back. At least it’s sugar-free. Practically diet food, yes?