24 August - Wednesday

by Eleni Wittbrodt

12:15

Sad day for meaningful eating so far. An important application has kept me really occupied and robotic all morning, eyes on screen, fingers on keyboard, brain disconnected from stomach with no capacity to even feel hungry. Quick coffee + galettes number for breakfast. I briefly get excited when I discover that the concave lid of my coffee jug can hold my biscuits like a mini bowl – very satisfying – and that the hot jug also warms up the galettes ever so slightly which is a nice touch. 

A few fellow residents pass by my picnic bench and sit down for a moment. One of them is Australian and we talk about large predators like crocodiles, and about the possibility of being eaten by another animal. The yoga group arrives again, and with the determination of ants they rapidly organise around the picnic table. My friends and I surrender quietly and leave.

Back upstairs I eat small bits of food of questionable nutritional value straight from the cupboard. It feels more like tidying up rather than eating: a handful of leftover bread stick ends, the rest of my goldbears, finally the last 6 mirabelles before they go off. 

16:15

Still not feeling hungry which is out of character; I should probably eat something anyway and take a break. It’s very hot outside. Fridge check: a few grumpy mushrooms need to be eaten ASAP. I rinse them but as I start prepping I realise that I actually strongly feel I don’t want to eat them; their smell even kind of disgusts me.

I decide to go out instead, without a real plan in mind. Maybe an espresso somewhere. I check if that nice little grocery store around the corner is back open after the holidays, and it is! I wander around, admiring their veg, and suddenly very clearly register the emptiness of my stomach as if someone’s put a plug back in.

I’m particularly attracted to the tomatoes. Since in Paris I’ve been compensating for 4 years of sad UK tomatoes – soz brave Scottish toms, I appreciate your trying! But there’s those stunning heirloom tomatoes here, they come in all sorts of colours from brownish red to bright red, orange, yellow, green, in all sizes and shapes. They’re juicy, glossy, kinda sexy and if that wasn’t enough already they're presented in small wooden crates on soft hay beds like something precious and delicate. There’s no chance I’m not gonna eat those, and I choose the largest two of the yellow ones and feel their weight when I carefully transfer them into my basket. I also get two artichokes, two fancy lemonades, a cute mozzarella in an elaborate wrapped shape like a newborn, a cucumber.

I configure a simple pasta dish in my head as I walk home and make a mental sketch: linguine – simple sauce of salted butter – some lemon – caramelised shallots, and that queen of a tom will just get sliced with a drizzle of salt and olive oil. Chunks of mozzarella as lil accents. It all comes together within 10 minutes. I want the tomato to be more than literally just a side so I go for my oval plate to arrange the food. The meal is delicious and makes me happy, especially the tomato. It’s got that juiciness of a ripe pear and texture of a grape. I might just bring a few of those back as a souvenir next time I visit Glasgow. A white choc ice cream would be a dream of a dessert now, but I need to get back to work and wouldn’t know where to find that ice cream anyway. I treat myself to a fancy lemonade instead. 

20:20

I finally finish my work for the day and celebrate the relief with a small bottle of cold cider. I feel tipsy after just two sips and really tired, suddenly not sure how I can even finish this text today. 

21:30

After so much head and word work I’m thankful for some random practical tasks. I wash the dishes, organise the cupboard a little bit and then prepare a tub of Bircher Müsli for breakfast tomorrow: I smuggled some pinhead oats from Scotland specifically for this, and I’m mixing them with some rolled oats, a few whole almonds, a grated apple and the juice of an orange from France plus a blob of German heather honey. The Müsli goes in the same tub that the bean stew inhabited before so I give it another really good rinse, dry, and a sniff test to make sure absolutely all savoury residue has gone. 

23:40

I rinse down the magnesium with two pints of water. A few people have laughed at me for buying pint glasses here, but honestly I think they’re the best shape to drink from if you’re thirsty. Is "thirst-quenching" a real word that people use?

On the way out from the kitchen I grab the last two Prince biscuits, return shortly after to snack on some riffled potato crisps.

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Eleni Wittbrodt (she/her) is a German visual artist based in Glasgow. @wttbrdt