A quiet jar of cloves

After a meat marinade the clove packet stayed unfolded by the hob — the buds warm from steam, the scent already weak. By the next fruit pot it smells of paper. I tip the whole cloves into a dry jar with a tight lid and set it on a far cool shelf — not above the kettle and not by the oven.

A quiet jar of cloves. Star anise is stars in stock; cardamom is pods for tea; nigella is a black pinch on bread. Here it is spice cloves: dark nails for a marinade, stock and apples, they need quiet and cool — not ground “for biscuits” from the rack, and not garlic cloves on the board.

An oily bitter bud goes to the bin, I don’t stir it into a sauce. Into the pot I drop them whole, one or two, I don’t crush the jar ahead. I look only at what is already open at ours — I’m not trying a new “more fragrant” packet.

I don’t need cloves with a flat smell by the heat. I need a jar from which a marinade smells of a whole bud again. In your kitchen do cloves go into a jar in the cool — or does the packet still live by the hob?