There are things in life that scare me. Like, for instance, when you’re sitting in a doctor’s office for a regular checkup and you’re asked to remove all of your clothes, but remember you wore your unforgivably ugly underwear because it’s laundry day, and you make a panicked mental reminder to find a new doctor because, clearly, you can’t face this one again.

But also diet things. Like, any and all diet things.  I think we can thank the ’80s for most things “diet” and “lite”, as well as for acid wash denim and the surge of needlessly long guitar solos that make most songs too awkward for karaoke.

My defenses against these fears are, first, keep a healthy stock of doctor-friendly underwear, and second, combat the diet fad by making my junk food the way the food gods intended: full fat, full flavor, no shame.

Like this ridiculous wheat-, dairy-, egg-, gluten-, and sugar-free chocolate cream pie, for instance:

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When I made my foray into this gluten-free adventure of mine a couple months back (albeit with a few warranted cheat days) I wasn’t sure I’d ever again know the joy of burning my lips on a scorching-hot, gooey, soft and chewy chocolate chip cookie. I’d conceded to eating cookies that would make me wish the apocalypse were real. But much like when I was five and assumed Mother Theresa was a portly black woman (and also that her name was “Mother Catreesa”) I was so very wrong!

BEHOLD. A gluten-free chocolate chip cookie that looks, feels and tastes like a REAL CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE. None of this crumbly, dry, flavorless nonsense. I would take this cookie to bed and call it the next morning.

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