diary

7th June evening, and 8th June, 7.48am 

I came down a fever on Sunday. After several hours in bed I sat at the kitchen table to pod peas and broad beans as my contribution to the evening meal. When I finished I was flagging a little but still in a doing-mood, so I took some unfortunate looking yellow tomatoes from the fruit bowl. Taking my seat at the kitchen table again I cut off the bad bits, sliced them into quarters and placed them in an enamel roasting tin. I picked a few thyme leaves from the yard and sprinkled them over and added a few minuscule garlic cloves left from a bulb with their skin on. I added a small amount of olive oil. I did not add salt, because I did not want to draw the juices out quickly, I wanted them to evaporate slowly. I put the roasting tray in the oven that had been used to cook a piece of pork and turned the heat down to 140 C. I left them in the oven for an hour, then turned it off and left them in overnight. 

In the morning I retrieved the tomatoes from the roasting tin and put them on a plate on the table with the oil they were cooked with. My partner cooked two eggs until they were just hard boiled and made coffee and toast. I put plates and cups, knives and forks and butter on the table. We placed the tomatoes on thickly buttered pieces of toast, then the egg on top cut into slices, then salt and pepper. The tomatoes were intensely sweet and sharp with small hits of thyme and then, the delicate opacity of hard boiled egg. Sometimes there is just enough energy left to put bad tomatoes in a dying oven until the morning.

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