Let’s talk about china. Not the country, the dishes. In my effort to clean up my house, I have come to the “good china.” It’s dusty. I rarely have company. Since my husband died, I don’t throw dinner parties. My home is not the hub that my parents’ house was, with everyone gathering there for holidays, birthdays, and other occasions. I’m the one who lives far away, so other people host the family dinners back in California.
My parents’ china was ivory with green flowers. It was part of a special-occasion ritual. The dining room table was stretched to its full length and covered with a white tablecloth. While turkey cooked in the oven, Dad took the china and silver down from the cupboard above the refrigerator and I set the table, nibbling on salami and celery stuffed with cheese from the hors d’oeuvres plates.
We sat on the squeaky wooden chairs, Mom said grace, and we started passing food in both directions at once. We ate until we were stuffed. Still photos or home movies were taken. Someone always joked that it got quiet because everyone was eating. Afterward, the women put away the food and formed an assembly line to wash, dry and stack the dishes and silver. Later, Dad put it back in the cupboard over the refrigerator and we went back to eating on plastic plates. Mom’s china never saw a dishwasher. Our house never had one.
I loved that china, but by the time my father died and we cleaned out the house, I had already inherited my mother-in-law’s dishes, so my niece inherited the green and ivory set. May she enjoy many wonderful meals with it.
Picking out one’s china pattern used to be a common ritual for young couples getting married. Before my first marriage, my china had already been chosen by my in-laws. I left it behind in the divorce, and I barely remember it. Rose and green flowers on white?
Fred didn’t get custody of the china in his divorce either. We made do with the “Palm Desert” stoneware we bought for ourselves. The stoneware is all chipped now, and I use blue and white Currier and Ives dishes I have found at antique shops over the years.
Fred’s mother’s china, the 12-piece set shown in the photo, has blue flowers on a white background. It includes dinner plates, dessert plates, salad bowls, cups and saucers, two serving dishes, and a gravy boat. It’s not the most expensive. I think she got it in one of those grocery store deals where you bought one piece a week until you had a whole set.
A little research shows that today’s young couples are not as interested in acquiring fine china that they only use for special occasions. It’s another thing to store, another thing to worry about breaking. The secondhand market is flooded with dishes that belonged to baby boomers and their parents.
The cabinet where Mom Lick’s dishes live also holds wine glasses, serving dishes, and wedding-present platters I ache to use again. Logic would tell me to donate all of it to charity or to someone who might use it. I could sell it on Ebay, I suppose. But I’m not going to. I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but I still want people to gather at my house for food and laughter and hugs. It’s difficult to host a party alone. But maybe someday, I won’t be alone. I put those dishes back in the cabinet as a sign of hope.
What about you? Do you have fine china? Was it passed down through the family, given as wedding presents, or purchased on your own? How often do you use it? Do you know who will use it when you’re gone? Tell us about it in the comments.
Some interesting reading:
“5 Clever Things to Do with Granny’s Old China”
“Millennials aren’t Buying Fine China—and They Don’t Want to Inherit It Either”
“Inheriting the Fine China? Many Younger Folks Say No Thanks”
Unleashed in Oregon 