The local farmers’ market opens at 8 AM, but I have never made it that early. Since I travel with J., I have to wait until he is up and ready – today we made it by 9:15 or so.
Though I try not to be too anal about my diet, I do believe, and have believed for many years, that the SAD (Standard American Diet), based mainly on stuff merely masquerading as food is the root of many modern diseases.
Many ASD people have food allergies and sensitivities, as well and, though fortunate to have only minor issues with food allergies (my skin test revealed allergies to rice and rye-very unusual), I am so opposed to Big Food I have a Facebook Page called ConaggroFoodz.
I have a blog: Conaggrofoodz – Eat in Not Out, and a Facebook page also called “ConaggroFoodz”, have grown my own food, and prepare my meals rather than go to restaurants, whose food I do not trust – I can discern twice used oil and rancid oil when others cannot and the oil they use is the cheapest available to reduce overhead (GM corn or canola, usually; but now there is a wide range of previously unknown oils; in fact, I still don’t know what some of them are – just google Cargill or Conagra and research some of their products:
The main reason I make my own meals is I am extremely picky – may nose and tastebuds are doglike in their sensitivity I can smell and I taste chemicals and food coloring – even the ascorbic acid used as a preservative. If anything smells the least bit unpleasant to me I will refuse it. Textures are another thing; if I get a tendon in chicken I throw the rest away. Sight: if I even see a spot of dark meat or blood I gag.
Some autistics have a tendency to become overweight; I am slightly underweight presently and have been very underweight and it has always been a struggle to feed me.I feel sated after a few bites usually and often wish I did not have to eat at all; for me eating is a chore and not a pleasure.
Search for “eating disorders and autism”. (This link is not Google, but DuckDuckGO; let me know if it links for you).
So, I try to create the most tempting dishes possible and I am good at it – there is a reason why I applied to the kitchen apprentice program at Tassajara. I should have known from all the chef memoirs I’ve read the hectic, abusive kitchen atmosphere is not for me. I would fare better as a food stylist for photographs.
I try to arrive at the market before it gets too crowded and bring my Koosh ball or other squishy to stim with because in public I get so nervous I self stimulate more.
(Today I learned how to craft links with my own text instead of the link address – cool, huh?).
Still, there is often some little incident- either I get separated from J. and panic a little, or, like today, someone bumped into me and I growled – yes, like an animal – and some lady turned and said,
“What’s your problem?”
“I’m autistic – leave me alone!” I snapped, which is better than what I used to do which is start a fight. She didn’t pursue it and neither did I. Still, it kind of hurt my feelings.
Then, at a scent counter which I love since I like to sniff what I consider to be good smells, a woman was spraying rose water on another woman and, when I asked what it was, it appeared to me she was about to spray me. I violently jerk away whining, “NOOOO!”
She was visibly taken aback, but very nice about it, reassuring me she wasn’t going to spray me.
On the whole, most people either pretend to ignore me or are nice, especially as more hear about autism or have friends or family with it.
So, I proudly brandish my Koosh and beat it out of there before the loud live music gets to me to much.