Dark Evil Lurks Within

For reasons that I can't divulge, top secret stuff that only me and a certain other person know, I've ended up with these things. They lurk, they occasionally look at me with their patronising, nasty and heart trembling attitude.

Yes, you guessed correctly. I have, in my fridge no less, a small tub of sun dried tomatoes in a garlic and herb flavoured olive oil. I've eaten one segment on its own. Just. I ate another with some rather nice extremely mature cheddar cheese, that was better. Now I'm stuck.

They are the devil of food these sun dried tomatoes aren't they? They're not even red. They taste like someone has taken a tomato and removed all the flavour and succulence, then decided to sell it to trendy people. It's like eating a pot noodle without adding the water first, though probably not quite as nice.

Eating fruit and vegetables is good for you, getting your five a day is supposed to be the way to a longer life, filled with joy and sex with beautiful women they say. But, when we signed up for it, "they" didn't mention that sun dried tomatoes would be involved.

C suggested that I could use them in cooking, perhaps chopped up and added to meat with spaghetti or another pasta of my choice. I might do this, but don't we Lankans just use tomato puree or old tomatoes lurking in the bottom right hand drawer of our fridge when we want the flavour?

I asked A and K last week if they wanted one or two and they grimaced and looked at me as if I was some sort of weirdo, well I mean they grimaced more than they usually do.

Vut too doo? If I had a garden I'd contemplate planting them, but the flaw with that plan is that the last thing I want is a huge big sun dried tomato tree growing in my garden.

And you thought I only worried about jeans and moisturiser!