“What do you mean there’s NO gravy? !!”
This is the remark that rings in my head, every time I look at this little ironstone gravy boat. We were newlyweds, living four hours from home in a different state, and were hosting our first Thanksgiving dinner as a couple, also a first family event in our “new 1903 home.”
This is the time to share, if you don’t know, that I am ALL ABOUT home restoration and the LOVE of old homes.
I had been spending my time staining 100-year-old floors of wide pine planks upstairs, and narrow strips of oak downstairs. Painting where needed, like every-inch-of-the house needed! I polished old brass door plates with crystal rosette doorknobs, I had stripped blackened varnish off of our staircase handrails, I hung wallpaper on 14′ high walls in our entry… I wasn’t concerned in the least about our “menu”, because Thanksgiving “is the same” every year, am I right?
Not this time!
Officially married for seven weeks, neither one of us were “kids”, yet we had much to learn still about the other.
I put very little thought into the menu, after all, I’ve made the same dinner the same way for 30 years or more. I concentrate on ” presentation”, on the “lovely”, on every. little. detail., my husband focuses on food.
Always.
Good food.
I was told that he had “mentioned” to his mother that I was NOT making gravy for our Thanksgiving dinner, and he was shocked by that. Frankly, my gravy, I told him, is always lumpy and not fit for guests.
AND, I continued, I always make my almost-famous Cheesy Potatoes, which is NOT the kind of potatoes you smother in lumpy gravy! I offered to make mashed potatoes instead, but he compromised and replied that he could put his gravy on the turkey, and that would work.
Good grief!
or should I say, ” Good gravy”!
All was well in the newlywed department on Thanksgiving morning as we waited for our home to fill with family.
We. were. ready.
The entire home had been scrubbed, the kitchen was emitting scents or cranberries, orange, and cinnamon, apple pie cooling and turkey basting. Through our freshly painted, multi-paned windows, we were enjoying the first snowfall of the year, it was all just picture perfect, however, the Tollroads and highways were backed up with holiday travelers creeping at a snail’s-pace in the snow.
Dinner was to be late.
Hours late.
Best laid plans, right?
When they arrived, we were grateful for their safe arrival. We hung their coats in our entrance’s armoire (very few closets in that house) and offered them coffee to warm up a bit. Excited conversations of great tales of risky highway adventures ensued.
Before dinner began, my new mother-in-law opened her purse, and presented me with this gravy boat of ironstone, the tiny chip was there, but it didn’t matter. Thanking her, I mentioned that “I’m not good with gravy, can I put store-bought gravy in this gravy boat?”
“Of course, you can, my son likes gravy”.
“Yes, I heard.”
Each year, when I pull this gravy boat from the hutch, I remember our first Thanksgiving. The little gravy boat was the first piece of ironstone presented to me from my mother-in-law, with other pieces to follow, for my birthday, Christmas, or when we came home to visit.
The best part is hearing the voice of my “brand new husband,” horrified and shocked that there would be no gravy at Thanksgiving, followed by the kindness of a generous, loving woman who seemed to know us both well.
Priceless.
Isn’t it wonderful that a single piece of ironstone, can bring back so many memories?
What treasures have you saved, for their ability to bring back your past?
Your fondest memories?
If you’d like to share below, I’d love to hear, and will answer when I get your comment.
Blessings to you,
xx,
