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Compartment 14B

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2007-10-19 - 12:11 p.m.

Why is it that we (okay, I at least) have “favourite spoons”? What is it about a certain utensil that makes it more pleasant to use than others? And why have I only noticed this phenomenon with spoons, but not forks or knives? I had a roommate that had a few favourite spoons and she made a point of letting me know which ones they were in an effort to ensure I didn’t, say, take them to work with my lunches.

I have a couple of favourite spoons I’ve accrued over time. I can’t remember where they came from (does this mean I’ve inadvertently stolen them?), they just one day appeared in my spoon inventory. I’m betting at least one is a legacy from an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a memento because I don’t associate it with him, and only just realized it came into my possession at about the same time as my precious, but sadly now broken Mini-Wheats bowl which I think I got from him. Still, it’s funny to think that I have no idea where this fellow – the first I ever lived with – is now (nor do I particularly care, though now that my curiosity has been prodded I may Google him or Facebook-stalk him, just to find out… hm, still lives in Toronto, works for a chemical company; isn’t the internet amazing?), but I still have his spoon and would miss it if it were to go astray.

My other favourite spoon is, coincidentally, the one I ate my Mini-Wheats with this morning in my office. I suspect this one was “borrowed” from the staff sink and never returned. I should probably feel guiltier about that, but I salve my conscience with the thought that it would be far less appreciated by any other owner.

These two spoons aren’t that much alike, except, of course, in that they’re both spoons with bowls to hold liquids, and handles on the bowls. Yet both have a certain balance and heft in the hand, a good “mouth feel”, and are of a pleasing size. I am firmly in the “small spoons are better” camp, apparently along with Sundry’s husband JB, who thinks that big ones are “cow spoons”.

Some day I’m going to find an entire set of “perfect spoons” and, when I do, I hope the forks and knives are just as good, because I’m going to buy it. In the meantime, I’ll be the one over in the corner crooning to my solitary spoon about how precioussss it is to me.

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