This was about convenience; she wanted to get the people fed, but she absolutely did not want to be bogged down with piles of dishes to do after. She wanted to enjoy the company of her family and share a meal with them. Period. But trays? It felt so school cafeteria. To me, it lacked specialness: all of the time and effort spent shopping and chopping and cooking deserved a better frame. A nicer frame.
I don't ever remember eating off of the white china decorated with blue roses in the china cabinet. My brother has it now along with her silver plate, but I'm not sure he uses it. (And his wife's grandmother had the same pattern. China kismet!) But, this was what I wanted: actual dishes, not plastic trays or Corelle; nice flatware in a variety of shapes and sizes; cloth napkins folded prettily at each place; covered serving pieces; crystal glasses from tiny to large; cocktails in the library before dinner was served; little salt and pepper shakers; maids from France to serve the hors d'oeuvres; glass coasters; English butlers to announce dinner; wine glasses; champagne flutes; caviar; souffles; and GOLD-PLATED EVERYTHING! Basically, I wanted life to be a dinner party from a 1930s romantic comedy. Even at the age of ten.
Sigh. This isn't the way things were, but it is a lot of the reason behind the way things are.
So now, twenty-some-odd-thirty years later, I reverse my position. I say: bring on the divided plastic tray in all of its iterations, from bento box to TV tray to standard cafeteria fare! I declare my Mam-ma the Avatar of Ease and Convenience for her forward-thinking and international lessons on making sure everyone got what they wanted to eat and not spending two hours setting the table and another two hours cleaning up.
Let everyone have a tray filled with delicious food and be happy, from prisoners to princesses!