Why am I never satisfied with my work? I mean, it's one thing when it's my writing that I'm being hyper-critical of. That shit's never good enough for me. But now that attitude is bleeding into my cooking. There was a point in time when I was satisfied with just being able to successfully make something. Now it's never good enough.
Yesterday I made chicken cordon bleu. I've tried a few times in the past and it never worked. I always had to give up and just make a deconstructed version that I fried up in a pan. But this time I did it right, and it actually came out. More than that, my family actually ate it and really liked it. Hell, even my brother's kids liked it, and if you know kids you know how picky the little bastards can be (yes, my brother and his 4 kids live here too).
But all I could think about as I ate it, was everything that I could have done different, everything that I had done wrong, everything that I could have done to make it better. I can't enjoy my own cooking because I'm always trying to figure out how to improve the meal.
It's frustrating, but I know I won't stop doing it. Anyone else psychotic like this?
