Book Review: The Gluten Lie and Other Myths About What You Eat, by Alan Levinovitz

Book Available from https://www.amazon.co.uk/Gluten-Lie-Other-Myths-about/dp/1941393063Book Published by Regan Arts

Book Review: The Gluten Lie by Alan Levinovitz

If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by conflicting food advice or found yourself second-guessing every label in the supermarket, Alan Levinovitz’s The Gluten Lie: And Other Myths About What You Eat is well worth a read. It’s an old read now, first published back in 2015, but I found its message is still very relevant to the gluten-free world today. As someone who’s been running a gluten-free household since 1994—first for my daughter with coeliac disease, then for my husband who developed non-coeliac gluten sensitivity (NCGS) in his 50s, and eventually for myself—I found this book both a comfort and a challenge.

A Fresh Take on Food Fads

Levinovitz, a professor of religion, brings a unique perspective to the table, comparing modern food rules to ancient religious taboos. He doesn’t just focus on gluten; he takes readers on a tour of food fears through history, from the infamous banana diet (which, let’s face it, was bananas!) to fascinating debates about wheat and rice in China over 2,000 years ago. I loved this historical context—it’s a good reminder that every generation has its own food anxieties, and today’s “truths” might be tomorrow’s myths.

Stories That Hit Home

One of the most moving moments in the book was reading about Kristin Voorhees’s journey. Her story brought a little tear to my eye, as it truly captures the emotional side of living gluten free—something that resonates deeply if you’ve ever navigated those challenges yourself or for a loved one.

My Personal Journey

I’ve been gluten free for a couple of years now—not because I had any obvious symptoms, but because I was searching for answers for my husband. Since I was already catering for a coeliac in the house, it just made sense for all of us to eat the same way. Strangely enough, after over a decade of unexplained, dodgy liver results, my tests returned to normal within three months of going gluten free and grain free. It’s one of those unexpected twists that makes you realise how individual our bodies and our food stories really are.

A Balanced, Compassionate Approach

Reflecting on Levinovitz’s style, what really stood out to me was his balanced and compassionate tone throughout the book. He never mocks or belittles people for their dietary choices, nor does he dismiss the very real struggles of those with coeliac disease, NCGS, or other food sensitivities. Instead, he approaches the subject with empathy—acknowledging that food is deeply personal and often tied to our identities, health, and even our sense of belonging. By sharing stories like Kristin Voorhees’s with genuine care, and by openly discussing his own uncertainties and curiosity, Levinovitz invites readers to question food dogmas without fear or shame. It’s this thoughtful, respectful approach that makes the book accessible and reassuring, even as it challenges some of our most deeply held beliefs about food.

A Wider Conversation

While revisiting the book, I recently came across an Amazon review of The Gluten Lie that really highlights just how complex and emotionally charged the world of food and nutrition has become. The reviewer talked about everything from the demonisation of dietary fat and the legacy of Ancel Keys, to the politics of food production, the addictive nature of sugar, and the evolving science around gluten and autoimmune disease. What struck me is how closely this mirrors the themes in The Gluten Lie. Levinovitz spends a lot of time unpacking why we latch onto certain food villains—be it fat, sugar, or gluten—and how these narratives are shaped by more than just science. There’s politics, economics, and, as the reviewer points out, a fair amount of industry influence and historical baggage.

The reviewer also mentioned the work of Alessandro Fasano and the role of gluten (specifically gliadin) in triggering inflammation and autoimmune issues. Levinovitz doesn’t dismiss these concerns; instead, he urges us to look at the evidence with a critical but compassionate eye. He points out that while there’s legitimate science behind gluten’s effect on some people, the leap from individual cases to blanket dietary rules is where things get murky—and sometimes even harmful.

Ultimately, both the reviewer and Levinovitz seem to agree on one thing: there’s no substitute for looking at the research, considering your own health and experiences, and making informed choices. As the reviewer says, “the dose is the poison”—and as The Gluten Lie reminds us, food is never just about nutrients; it’s about culture, belief, and personal story.

Who Should Read This?

If you’re living gluten free—by necessity or by choice—you’ll find both reassurance and challenge here. Bakers, parents, and anyone who’s ever felt bombarded by dietary “rules” will appreciate this book’s thoughtful, myth-busting approach. It’s also a fascinating read for anyone interested in the cultural and psychological side of food.

Final Thoughts

The Gluten Lie isn’t about telling you what to eat. It’s about giving you the confidence to make your own choices, free from guilt and fear. For me, it reinforced the importance of listening to our bodies, respecting our unique journeys, and questioning the latest food fad before we overhaul our cupboards.

If you’ve read it, I’d love to know—did any stories resonate with you? And what’s the wildest food trend you’ve ever tried or heard about?

_

Just a quick note—this isn’t a sponsored post and I’m not affiliated with the author, publisher, or Amazon in any way. I don’t earn anything from reviews or links; I just love sharing honest thoughts and helpful resources from my own gluten-free journey and my work at Celebrity Cakes. If you ever have questions about gluten-free living or fancy a chat about cake, you know where to find me!