Little Stories: The Special Fork
How I sent coded messages while setting the table for dinner.
Little Stories, focusing on memories from my youth, is a recurring feature of Inconspicuous Consumption. You can see more Little Stories here.
When I was growing up, our family had two sets of silverware. There was a fancy set, made of real silver, which was reserved for holidays and special occasions, and a stainless set for everyday use. The five utensils shown above are from that stainless set. They were made by a Swedish brand called Wallin, whose name is stamped into the underside of each piece:
I don’t recall how or when these five pieces were passed on to me, or why I ended up with such a random assortment. Why only one fork? What happened to the knives? I don’t know. But I do know that these implements feel instantly familiar in my hand — the size, the weight, the balance. I always make sure to use one of the large spoons when having my Cheerios each morning, just as I did when I was a kid.
My favorite implement, though, is the fork. This is in part because forks are just inherently better than spoons (forks are like odd numbers while spoons feel like even numbers, and everyone knows odd numbers are superior). But it’s mainly because this particular fork has a little detail that played a key role in my childhood.