Skip to main content

A Night at the Pottery Studio

Do you remember when I told you about this place, the pottery studio in town that is like a sanctuary and has the feel of being in another world?

I went there last night with Eustacia and a few friends. Eustacia is home for the weekend because it's the weekend for Pantasia, the high school steel drum band's big concert. She was a part of the group for four years and wanted to be here for the concert. She's behaving like a 13th grader, she fears.

Anyway, it's tradition on this weekend that I host a big hairy deal dinner for the band directors and the guest percussionist, Tom Miller, who comes here from San Francisco/Denver to conduct a three-day clinic and be part of the concert. This year we decided to do something different and go to the pottery studio for what the potter and his wife called the Empty Bowl Extravaganza. For one price, you select a unique soup bowl made by the potter, fill it with one of a selection of fresh soups made by a local baker, have some bread and cookies from the same local baker and sip some wine from a local winery.

The room was warmed by a coal-burning stove and absolutely beautiful. As I mentioned before, the studio is in what was a one-room school house built in 1887. When the owners bought the place, they found amazing things like huge trunks that had been abandoned. These served as tables and were surrounded by mismatched chairs. There was great music in the background, and lots of happy chatter.

We admired the pottery, the bowls each of us had chosen and the gumption of this husband and wife who put it all on the line to be able to live simply by their skills and dreams. A few of us (not me) ventured down into the old basement that had a dirt floor, and they discovered handcut sandstone blocks that made up the foundation and saw how the school children from 100 years ago had written lasting messages on the blocks.

I'm not sure how the subject came up, but we started sharing what we would want for our last meal should we find ourselves in the position of choosing it, knowing it would be our last. Some of us recalled amazing meals in amazing restaurants, and we wondered if the atmosphere made the food taste better. If we had that same meal in another setting and in another time, would it be as memorable, or would it be disappointing?

I didn't share my last meal at the time, but if I had to choose it, I would choose my grandmother's fried chicken, green beans cooked to death with bits of ham hock, fresh squash from the garden and a giant piece of coconut cake with seven-minute icing. Sigh. It would have to be served by my grandmother while in her kitchen in Alabama. And I would have to be sitting at that old metal dinette set with the smell of all-day cooking in the air. And there needs to be cornbread made from scratch, not like that fake stuff that comes from a mix.

So, it was a magical evening in the pottery studio. Here are the bowls we chose—Eustacia's is on the left, and mine is on the right. Question: what would you choose for your last meal?

Comments

Terroni said…
Would you mind being a little more specific about where this is? I have some friends and family in your area who would be very interested in supporting the local artisans.

tterroni at hotmail.
11:13 AM
dive said…
This sounds like a wonderful evening, Robyn. I love the pots and the whole thing sounds amazing fun.
12:33 PM
Anonymous said…
If you get my name at Christmas I want something from that shop! I'll join you with Mimaw for a last meal - the table is likely to be crowded if we all get our choice.
2:33 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Classic Green Bean Bake

In anticipation of Thanksgiving, I feel I must post a recipe with plenty of good old American tradition. The classic Green Bean Bake was invented in 1955 by Dorcas Reilly, a home economist who worked for the Campbell's Soup Company. A study was done determining that 50% of all Americans have eaten the classic Green Bean Bake, and 38% of those believe it is best served during the holidays, mainly Thanksgiving. So, for the other 50% and for those in other countries where this dish may be unfamiliar--my treat: The Classic Green Bean Bake serves 6 to 8 1 can Campbell's Cream of Mushroom Soup 1/2 cup milk 1 teaspoon soy sauce Dash of fresh pepper 1 20-oz. bag frozen cut green beans, thawed* 1 2.8 oz can French-fried onions -Preheat the oven to 350 F -In a casserole dish, combine the soup, milk, soy sauce and pepper. Stir in the green beans and half of the onions. -Bake until bubbling, about 25 minutes. Top with the remaining onions and bake for 5 more minutes. Serve hot. *Or cook 1 ...
7 comments
Read more

Bring On the Bombs

In today's edition : I generally try to keep on top of cultural trends even if I don’t adopt them, but there is a growing movement that I have only just discovered. Not long ago, I was walking along in Berkeley, California while visiting my daughter, and I saw a signpost that had been covered with yarn, like someone had sewn a knitted scarf to it. It was colorful and randomly striped, and I pointed it out as if it were the most unusual thing in the world. That’s when my daughter explained the nature of what is known as yarn bombing. It’s when knitters attach something they’ve created to a public object, most often doing their deed stealthily and anonymously. They leave a “bomb,” so to speak, for no other purpose than to brighten up the place and to bring a little cheer to those passing by. Their work has been equated with graffiti, except that the woven yarn is not permanently installed and does no damage to the object it covers. And instead of signifying the territory of a street ...
2 comments
Read more

Cindy Loo Who In October

What is it with people and Cindy Loo Who? Of my last one hundred blog hits, forty have been direct visits from regular readers, and fifteen have been as a result of people searching for "Cindy Loo Who," the little pixie from Seuss's How The Grinch Stole Christmas . A couple of years ago, I posted an image of the original Seuss illustration as compared to the TV cartoon image, and for some reason, that post is bringing in the crowds, relatively. Maybe it's the weather. It isn't even November yet, and already we've had frost and have had to dust off our winter coats. When it gets cold like this, I start to think about Christmasy things like listening to Nat King Cole and decorating the tree. It's ironic because I am offended when retailers start pushing holiday stuff early, but I don't mind my own private celebrations. When my sister and I were much younger and still living with our parents, we would pick a day in July, close the curtains to darken the ...
8 comments
Read more