City of Light

Martha Would Be Proud

Dear reader, I must confide in you a small secret you might not have known about me. For the past two months, I have been using plastic flatware. Gasp! Can it even be called flatware if it's not made of some kind of metal? I don't know. But silverware it certainly is not. The circumstances of how this came to pass are not interesting enough to blog about. Apparently, though, my friends think it's hysterical that even during dinner parties, I have had the audacity to present them with plastic forks and knives to eat with. I admit, it's funny in an appalling kind of way (and appalling in a funny sort of way? Never mind).

But now those barbarian days are over! Thanks to Ebay, I am the proud owner of six gorgeous forks and six gleaming knives - all tipped with a lovely bone handle. I feel all grown up again. I can have friends over for dinner with no shame. I can actually cut a piece of meat, twirl spaghetti, and hear the satisfying clink of metal against china when my plate is empty. But my enthusiasm is dampened (only somewhat) by the fact that the plastic isn't out the window just yet. After all, I have yet to find matching spoons...