Do you have certain items that bring you happiness and contentment? They could be anything. A favourite sweater that envelopes you with warmth and love when you pull it on, a cozy chair, some worn-in slippers, a blanket, or maybe comfort food. Alternatively, you could be like my husband, Tom, and his son Todd, who feel that same thrill of pleasure and well-being when holding good cutlery.
Yes, you heard me—cutlery. We heard the whole tableware lecture over Christmas when Todd and his family joined us for a meal. In fact, when Tom launched into his familiar refrain on the benefits of a properly constructed fork, I stopped him and advised the man to save us all a lot of time by penning his silverware rant onto paper and leaving it on my desk, where I could run-off a few duplicates.
Then, before we sat down to the next meal, he and Todd could just issue us each a copy that we might be enlightened at length. There could be a question and answer period, followed by notetaking wherein we could highlight critical points of the address for later reference. This would ensure the appropriate measures were adhered to and the correct utensils dispensed. Completely eliminating a need for the speech at all.
But no. We were treated to the full-length version.
Are you aware that all cutlery is not made equal? Take it from me, it’s not. First, you need a stalwart, no-nonsense fork that would never bend under the pressure of a resistant potato or the repeated jabbing of innocent lettuce leaves. Its tines must be aligned perfectly, allowing it to slide off the tongue effortlessly. Furthermore, it must be sturdy; created of quality metal. None of this flimsy thin crap.
Also, a good knife must be provided. A substantial implement you could count on when taking down game, or a well-done steak, as the case may be. It needs to have a handle that gives a man “somethin’ to hang onto,” and the weight and sharpness must be balanced, allowing ease of use. *Please see the Proper Sharpening Techniques lecture, by Todd and Tom, from later that evening.
These worthy tools also will be accompanied, although to a lesser degree, by a heavy-duty spoon, that, if called upon, could gouge a hole through the earth’s crust, and on through to China. I mean, who wants a floppy spoon when hefting a load of soup into their salivating mouth? It must stand the test of time, or of chicken noodle, whichever comes first.
There may be no deviance from these little-known table laws. These requirements are irrefutable and written in stone. Somewhere. Likely accomplished by using the indestructible knife.
“Where’s my fork?” Tom demanded that fated evening, which is where the whole, nasty incident began. He held on high the implement of inferior quality he’d foolishly been given.
“Hold everything!” cried Todd in complete agreement, busily sliding back his chair to join his father in the hunt for appropriate flatware. And a good time was had by all. (At least, once they had a decent fork).