Translation Cards

You know the moment. The waiter is waiting, the menu is in a language you half-remember from school, and you need to explain — politely, clearly, without turning dinner into a seminar — that this isn’t a preference. That a shared fryer matters. That “just a little flour” is not a little problem.

That’s the moment translation cards were made for.

What a translation card actually does

A coeliac translation card is a short, carefully worded explanation of your needs in the local language. You hand it over, or show it on your phone, and it does the explaining for you — in words a kitchen actually understands, in the tone you’d use if you spoke the language fluently.

Why not just improvise? Two reasons.

First, “gluten-free” mistranslates more often than you’d expect. A dictionary swap might get you as far as “no wheat” — and then a kitchen that genuinely wants to help serves you barley, soy sauce, or chicken dusted in flour before it ever hit the pan. Gluten hides in words that don’t sound like wheat in any language.

Second — and this is the part nobody warns you about — the ingredients are the easy half. The hard half is cross-contact: the shared fryer, the pasta water, the crumbs on the cutting board. Cross-contact isn’t a word you can look up; it’s a concept you have to explain. And concepts are exactly where improvised translation falls apart, usually mid-sentence, usually with the whole table watching.

What makes HTGF’s cards different

Written by a coeliac who actually orders with them

These aren’t phrases run through a translator and signed off by someone who has never had to use them. They’re the wording I use at restaurant tables myself — tested on real waiters, in real kitchens, during real Tuesday-night service when nobody has time for a lecture. When a phrase confused people, it got rewritten. What’s left is what works.

They cover the part that actually makes you ill

Most free cards stop at “no wheat, barley, rye.” Ours go where the real risk lives: separate utensils, a clean pan, no shared fryer — plus a gentle flag on the places gluten likes to hide, like sauces, stock cubes, marinades and that final dusting of flour.

They make the kitchen an ally, not a defendant

Tone decides outcomes. A card that reads like a liability waiver makes kitchens nervous, and nervous kitchens say no. Ours ask for help rather than demand compliance — because a chef who feels trusted will quietly go and check the label on the stock, and that’s the chef you want cooking your dinner.

Try it: a free mini-sample

Here’s the kind of phrasing the cards are built from — short enough to actually be read, polite enough to be welcomed, specific enough to matter.

English

“Hello! I have coeliac disease, so even tiny amounts of wheat, barley or rye make me ill. Could you help me find a dish that’s safe for me, and ask the kitchen to use a clean pan and clean utensils? Thank you so much — I really appreciate it.”

Deutsch

„Guten Tag! Ich habe Zöliakie – schon kleinste Mengen Weizen, Gerste oder Roggen machen mich krank. Könnten Sie mir helfen, ein geeignetes Gericht zu finden, und die Küche bitten, eine saubere Pfanne und sauberes Besteck zu verwenden? Herzlichen Dank für Ihre Mühe!”

Italiano

«Buongiorno! Sono celiaco/a: anche piccole tracce di grano, orzo o segale mi fanno stare male. Potrebbe aiutarmi a scegliere un piatto sicuro e chiedere alla cucina di usare una padella e utensili puliti? Grazie mille, è davvero gentile.»

That’s the whole idea in three sentences: state the need, make clear it’s medical, ask for help with the specifics — and say thank you like you mean it.

One honest note

A translation card is a communication tool, not a safety guarantee. It gets the right information to the right people in the right tone — but you’ll still want to listen to the answers, watch how confident the kitchen seems, and make your own call, exactly as you would at home.

Coming very soon

The first cards launch in English, German, Italian and Spanish, with more languages to follow. They’re digital — on your phone, ready before the waiter is, working in places where a paper card would already be soup-stained by day three.

Want to be there when they land? Keep an eye on the shop and follow @how.to.gluten.free on Instagram — that’s where launch news arrives first.