The autistic chef

    I wonder if all perfectionists are more or less autistic. I only have myself to go on, especially as being more or less autistic, I'm not terribly good at insights into what other people are thinking or feeling. Going by myself, though, I find myself believing that there's a RIGHT way (yes in all-caps) to do anything and everything, and it's just a matter of finding out what it is. I appreciate intellectually that there is no real perfection (also a terrific song by Badfinger), but I can't seem to help believing in it anyway.
    Because of dietary restrictions (which, as has been pointed out to me, I've imposed on myself, but still) I find myself restricting my search for perfection to the realm of cooking. Yesterday and today have been all over the map in terms of this search. I was making my Dates With Assorted Nuts cookies and for no reason spaced out and put in almond meal instead of brown rice flour. It wasn't such a great idea in terms of making cookies that held together, but in terms of taste, it was crazy nuts exquisolent. (I'm not sure, but I don't think spell check is going to go for that word.) Maybe not the best thing ever, but definitely something worth exploring further.
    Later yesterday evening, I made chili. And found that I had bought the diced tomatoes with oregano and basil. So I accidentally invented chili italiano. I was doing tonight's cooking last night due to time constraints today, so I haven't tried it yet except for licking the spatula. I suspect that it'll be OK, but not the best. Most likely I've eaten worse things.
    Where I'm closing in on perfection is my shepherd's pie. Granted, smearing garlic mashed potatoes on top might be cheating, but this is really getting to be something people would eat on purpose. I think that if I put in tastier vegetables than okra, broccoli, turnip and carrot, I'd probably be able to sell it. That long ago crazy idea of making hush puppies with grits and lentils really turned out, even if not exactly as hush puppies. Anyway, I'm pleased with the results. If I were as autistic as I sometimes think I am, I guess I would just make it exactly the same way every time forever and ever. My madness takes another form; I tend to get bored with perfection and move on to try something else. So maybe perfectionists aren't autistic; just easily bored.