“Spooning” by Kathy McHarge

 

My son was in the market for a charcuterie board, of all things. It was his girlfriend’s birthday, and he wanted to give her a carved block of wood you place meat and cheese on when guests come over for a drink. I thought it was an odd gift, but I didn’t say so. To me, it seemed unnecessary to own a kitchen board that looks like a giant ping pong paddle. I’ve never owned such a board, and I’ve only heard of them recently. Any time I’ve ever served cheese, I used a plain old plate or a platter if I got fancy.

I wouldn’t even know where to buy a charcuterie board. Are there stores that have a charcuterie board section nestled beside the display of seafood forks? Or do you happen to find the charcuterie board of your dreams when you’re walking the aisles looking for a new non-stick frying pan that won’t try to covet your scrambled eggs? But my son didn’t have to go on a quest to find a new home for his girlfriend’s brie. As luck would have it, one of his friends who is a carpenter by trade had a side gig at a local craft fair where he was selling wooden coasters, art pieces, and yes, charcuterie boards.

We had to pay an entrance fee to the fair just to look at the wide assortment of boards. There were short ones, long ones, and ones that were carved in the shape of a fish. My son must have been thinking of impressing his girlfriend when he picked out one of the biggest boards in blonde wood with a sleek handle and a natural swirling pattern created by darker grains. When I told my son it looked like a feather was imprinted in the wood, he was sold. The whole process took only minutes.

I wanted to get my money’s worth, so I informed my son that we were going to walk around the fair to have a look at the other stalls. He agreed without complaint even though the board was cumbersome and heavy to carry. There were food vendors selling maple syrup, baked goods, and honey. There were customized T-shirts, scented candles, purses made from jeans, and creepy dolls that seemed to be inspired by Elf on the Shelf. But the stalls that captured my interest were the ones featuring handmade jewellery. I found myself lingering at one stall that had trays of silver rings organized by size. I noticed that they were all different and surprisingly substantial looking. When I picked one up to try it on, a woman came over to tell me all the rings were made from spoons.

I thought I misheard. “Did you say spoons, like the ones we eat with?” She then explained that she acquires old spoons, cuts off the bottom portion of the handle containing the pattern, and then bends them into rings. I was duly impressed, deciding in that moment that the woman would now be known as the artisan. I had to have a spoon ring, if not for its value, for its novelty. It figured it would be a great conversation piece. 

My search for a spoon ring began in earnest. I wanted something attractive, but not something that screamed “spoon.” I wanted all my anticipated spoon ring admirers to be able to see the ring first and the spoon second, as if looking at one of those popular optical illusions containing two images. 

I also wanted the ring to fit. Apparently, when you’re bending spoons, you cannot be sure what size the ring will be. Some rings had ridges you would expect to find at the bottom of a spoon, but they were, well, too spoony. I liked the one I found featuring Winston Churchill’s face, but the imprint was tiny, and you had to turn the ring sideways to make it out. 

And then it appeared as if calling my name. I found a ring with a stem that swept across a shiny silver surface with the flourish of a painter’s brush stroke. The stem was delicate at one end and then gently widened at the other. It culminated with a very clear imprint of a lovely daffodil in full bloom. The ring wasn’t new but repurposed. It wasn’t made of precious metal but stainless steel. It wasn’t even circular in shape but more of a flattened oval. Still, somehow, it was beautiful, and my son, who knew I was smitten, offered to purchase it for me.

The artisan approved of my choice, telling me that it came from a flatware pattern called Daffodil. The name was so unimaginative, I thought she might have been joking, but after some research online, I learned she wasn’t. Daffodil was indeed the name of silver-plated flatware released by a company called 1847 Rogers Brothers. It was first produced in 1950, and the pattern was retired in 1973. So, not only did I acquire a spoon ring, but the flatware my spoon came from is vintage.

I’ve since thought about the years from 1950 to 1973 when the Daffodil pattern was popular. That was a long time ago. I know because I was born during those years that now seem so different from today, a more innocent time of setting a pretty table. I’ve wondered about all the hands that held my spoon before it was transformed, all the sugar bowls it was dipped into, all the cups of coffee and tea it stirred. And then there was the original owner of my spoon, someone who carried it as part of a gleaming new silverware set from a store to a home. 

Was it a woman who loved the pattern as much as I do? Maybe she was a woman of means who enjoyed entertaining. Or maybe she was simply a wife and mother who had an affinity for spring flowers. This thought reminded me of my own mother. I may have lived when Daffodil flatware appeared in kitchens and dining rooms, but that era really belonged to my mother who was raising seven children then. Interestingly, her favourite flower was the daffodil, and that is why it was etched onto her gravestone.

My son’s girlfriend received her charcuterie board the same day I received my daffodil spoon ring. Her magnificent board cost five times more than my humble ring. Yet, there was no way to distinguish between the utter delight we both experienced when we received our respective gifts. Hers was made of wood, mine of memories.

Kathy McHarge is a former teacher who is now experiencing retired life and all the possibilities of unstructured time. When she is not listening to audiobooks while walking her wily dog, Kathy is exploring new interests and getting reacquainted with erstwhile ones like creative writing. She enjoys writing poems and stories, agreeing with author Elizabeth Gilbert who said there is quiet glory in merely making things

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