Oh, How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Gravy Boats...

(A Manic Thrift Store Shopper/bigYELLOWbowl crossover post.)

Let's face it, I have a very acute case of dishmorphia. When I'm shopping at the thrift store or home store or wherever, I see something and think, "okay, I absolutely need ten of those." When in reality I already have twenty of them at home. Small dishes? Check. Chopsticks? Check. Asian soup spoons? I think we all learned our lesson about that last week. I really do have twenty-four more Asian soup spoons on their way to me as I type.

But perhaps the most ridiculous? Gravy boats.

First of all, how many gravy boats does a vegetarian need? Sure, there are lots of great vegetarian gravies or sauces out there. Case in point, the amazing gravy Jimmy made for our New Year's Day breakfast. But, how often do I actually serve gravy? On a very rare and special occasion, it's true. Raise your hand if you have been served gravy or sauce from a gravy boat at my house?

But when I was growing up, gravy was just something you always had. It went over the meat, it went on the potatoes, it went over the chicken and it went on the biscuits. Sometimes, it just went on torn up pieces of bread which I loved and always thought of as a special treat. We always had gravy. It was so important that when Barbara made crispy fried chicken, she would also pan fry some chicken in order to have the drippings necessary for gravy. And she still does.

How many gravy boats did my mother have? Only one that I can remember.

But, when it's 2010 and you're whipping up a curry, pasta or bowl of Asian noodles for dinner, you don't really need a gravy boat. So why do I have six? That's right, I have six different gravy boats. Six, different, beautiful and elegant gravy boats--each a star in their own right.

So, how does this happen? I'll walk your through it.

Well, I'm at the thrift store and I find a gravy boat (above) that is lovely and different. It's Sango and I'm a total bitch for Sango. I have a couple of plates and a set of eight, very low bowls in red. I'm pretty sure that Sango made nothing that was cute after 1968, but before that: LOVE-ly. Love it all.

So I find this gravy boat (above) and it's lovely and in perfect shape. It doesn't really have a handle, just a small indention at the back to slip a thumb in as your gingerly pour gravy (or sauce) onto whatever it is you are gravy-ing (or saucing). It's different. It's unique. I'm already hooked, but I think to myself, "You know, you don't really have a nice, simple gravy boat in the cupboard. This is really a useful piece and you really need one."

Say what?

It's like this: I look at my china cabinet, my sideboard, my front closet filled with Pyrex and my bedroom closet filled with china and I think, "I don't have ANY dishes. Nothing fun or interesting. It's a wasteland!" And you are looking at the same china cabinet, sideboard, front closet filled with Pyrex and bedroom closet filled with china and probably thinking one of three things:

1. He is crazy.
2. Is there a shortage in the China mines? Are the Pyrex trees drying up? Did a blight take out the tiny dish fields this season?
3. Maybe he is opening up a store.

I have dishmorphia. Pure and simple. There isn't a cure. I mean, there isn't a cure I'm willing to participate in. Intervention? Try it. I'll be out of the hotel suite and in the nearest thrift store before you can say, "We've all written letters about how your shopping and dishmorphia affect us."

But, I will walk you through the collection:

This gravy boat is très important because it is what began the Temporama madness--I mean Temporama collection! I found it at the DAV on Douglas in Wichita, KS and said to myself, "Someday I will have a china cabinet full of this amazing pattern." I didn't even know at that point there was a separate under plate in a lovely robin's egg blue that accents all this amazing china. If I had, I probably would have dropped to my knees at that very moment and sworn a lifetime of allegiance.

I was visiting my friends Susan in Dallas, TX and she offered me some colors and duplicates from her Russel Wright collection. I love the streamlined nature of this gravy boat and its amazing ergonomic form. Ergonomic before it was cool! It is a little crazed, but I could still never part with it.

This odd specimen has an attached under plate and was produced by Tamac Pottery in Perry, OK. This color is called 'frosty fudge' and while it isn't my favorite in their line, the loose organic shape makes up for the fact it is not avocado. No matter how strong I will it.

This lovely little gravy boat with the Aladdin's lamp handle and separate under plate is part of the collection of Metlox Shore Line started by a gift from the playwright and actress Helena Hale on one of her trips to Wichita, KS. It would do her memory a disservice were I ever to part with it.

Finally, an example from Schonwald in white, German porcelain. The under plate is attached and I also have a large serving bowl, a small serving bowl and a platter in this same ovoid shape. How could I break them up?

See? All six are necessary and important.