You don’t have to spend ages on a dish, but, to me,
it’s part of the joy of cooking. I love adorable, sumptuous, rich cuisine,
and to be frank, I don’t care how long it takes, even an eternity
For me, the preparation is as good as the eating; you know what I mean. Well, almost.
This is a quick, easy to prepare dish that you can rustle up any time, anywhere,
crisp, crunchy, elegance, I love any endearing, opulent, creamy thing, to me
light, golden heat, the warmth, glow, gentle cut, to savour the richness, in the air
thick spread, pepper, oregano - you could use coriander - relax, enjoy a cup of tea.
I simply love this dish, a combination of smoothness and macho-raw, a true
mélange of colours, the orange of a rising sun, the juice, like a warm current blowing
in the autumn, the golden-brown richness texture, the thirst for pleasure beginning to accrue.
It’s creamy, light but vibrant, with that warmth that on a cold morning, you require to get going.
Three full rich, ruby, smooth summer morning English tomatoes, one can skin them, but
I prefer the extra thickness one gets with the skin, the tangy zest on its beat.
Chop these up small, then add a modest amount of garlic, you can grate or cut,
but too much, we get a bitter, ugly sauce; we want warmth rather than heat.
Then, we add a sprinkle of sea salt; common table salt will suffice; it might
create a slight, rather cheap, plebeian taste, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?
Give a quick stir, to get the juice, taste and colour to blend in… yes, take a bite
to fabulous, rich mixture, like magma; doesn’t that look lovely? Oh, where’s the tea?
I am going to leave the oregano until last; you can use coriander, but for me,
tomatoes need oregano. We put this on a low heat, like that, now watch the juice glow.
The base takes no time; these, in for a few minutes, that’s all you need, it must be
a subtle coat of crispy brown. Then, we want a blanket of English butter, not too thick though,
to add another dimension. Massage it over gently, just as if you are on the beach,
the warm yellow, full of the scent of summer, exciting the taste buds; oh, I can barely wait,
the gorgeous, light-brown, almost feathery texture, that gentle waft of warmth trying to reach
the heights of culinary mirage. I like to use a brown pattern plate;
I feel it brings out, through the clay colouring, a connection with the Earth,
I’m a part of an intimate relationship with the cuisine, an important thing for me;
the tomatoes are simmering gently; leave them for a minute or two, let them come in birth,
whilst we relax, by going on to the next phase of making a pot of calm, quiet tea.
The teapot we pre-warm, neo-Georgian style, with a hint of early Victoriana maybe.
The water should not be on the boil; let it cool a few degrees, now add the pinch, tracing
a gentle stir to arouse the essence of the leaf, a subtle, almost mothering aroma of the tea,
Earl grey, without milk; that would destroy the flavour; we want delicate, light, and bracing.
You capture, you tame, you breathe in the essential quintessence, the epitome,
the full enervating freshness of a Himalayan hill resort bungalow
high on a tea estate, not that I know one firsthand, but, sigh, it’s what I imagine it to be
like, pause, and there you have it; irresistible, gorgeous, enjoy and embrace that glow.
Right, gently scoop the tomatoes out, lay them there, almost breathing a touch
of sensuality, with a dash of oregano, a coat of peppering heat going by,
the firm, masculine underlay of the toast, the femininity of the tomatoes, oh, it’s too much,
if that is possible, and there you have a perfect right-for-any-occasion breakfast. Chai?
That’s Indian for tea, you know.
