Being social comes with a range of expectations around eating and drinking. Here are 10 tips to help you navigate big and small interactions:
- Decide in advance what you want to communicate. This will depend a lot on the formality of the event and how many people will be there.
- Remind the host/organizer. People are busy, and it’s easy to forget.
- Don’t expect the host to accommodate your every need. If you’re comfortable, remind the host once what you can and can’t have, but don’t harp on it through the night.
- Don’t be surprised if more people ask you about it. The host might have told an inquisitive other guest.
- Be prepared for nothing to be safe. Regardless of good intentions, sometimes a host can forget or not realize what was in a prepared dish, leading to accidental omissions or cross-contamination.
- BYO. Many people with sensitivities do this even if they’re just sharing dishes with close friends.
- Consider larger-scale alternatives. For example, host a specific event rather than squeezing sensitive eating into someone else’s party. It’s easy and rewarding.
- Practice responding to different reactions. Some people act overly offended or inconvenienced.
- Keep in mind they’re probably more embarrassed than you. They feel guilty, as if they’ve slighted you. Reassure them.
- Make peace with being in the spotlight. It’s unlikely to change, so embrace it.
Text the Host Before You Show up Hungry and Anxious
The best step you can take is 24 to 48 hours out. Shoot a text or make a quick call, and present it as an ask not a tell: “Can’t wait for Saturday! Do better without dairy or fermented stuff. No worries if that’s not easily avoidable, I’ll grab something to share that isn’t an issue.” Offering to bring something serves as a cue you’re not dropping a logistical burden in their lap.
For restaurants: give them a ring, ask to speak to a manager (not the person who answers with “how many?”). And keep beefing up that already boring but safe order when the table shares plates. Manager types can usually let you know about cross-contact stuff in a way the harried server can’t.
The Drink Question Deserves its Own Plan
Alcohol is more of a stumbling block than any specific item on the menu when you’re histamine intolerant (or when you’re eating out in general really). Wine, beer, and spirits like whiskey vary tremendously in how much of a reaction they cause. But not all drinks are created equal in the histamine department, and it’s far better to get clued in about your safer choices by reading this article in advance than to try to figure it out while the bartender waits. A non-alcoholic drink in hand also knocks off another problem: people constantly asking why you’re not drinking.
Bring One Dish You Can Actually Eat
This is hands down the best play in the entire playbook. Simply bring a dish you love, using ingredients you feel safe with, in a large enough serving that it can double as your entire meal if need be. Potluck or not, this one play eliminates all the stress. You’re not crossing your fingers that the host has you covered. You know you are, and odds are you’ve also covered two or three other guests who silently struggle with the same issue.
Reading the Table Before You Touch Anything
There are a few rules of thumb that will take you far at buffets and shared meals. When in doubt, look before you ask, many hidden offenders are immediately obvious when you check the ingredient card or politely inquire about the sauce. Scoop your portion first, before the serving spoon is used in multiple containers. Limit your exposure when people hand you food on their spoon. Stick to only one plate. Pass by dishes that you can’t verify and that usually contain hidden sources of gluten like soy sauce and dairy derivatives.
What to Actually Say When Someone Pushes Back
You don’t owe anyone a medical explanation, and short phrases work better than long ones anyway. A few that end the conversation cleanly:
- “That looks amazing, but my stomach will wage war. I’m all set, thank you.”
- “I’m better off avoiding that one, but I’m loving everything else here.”
- “I’ve got my own plate sorted, don’t worry about me!”
- “No thanks, that one doesn’t love me back.”
None of these invite debate. They’re warm, brief, and final.
Give Yourself Permission to Just Skip it
There is a certain social pressure that will insist you try the shrimp patties despite you explaining for the hundredth time that you have a shellfish allergy. You are not being rude when you politely decline the fifth glass of wine or the extra serving of dessert. You don’t have to eat something you know will wreck you just because you’re at a party and everyone else is doing it.
The people who are truly your friends, and the people worthy of sharing a meal with you, will respect and honor your small private revolutions. This is going to be tough, this time of year. The social pressure is everywhere, and not everyone gets the memo, or listens to the words we say, about our limitations.
