Flatware

I am anticipating a discussion on flatware. I expect that we have to choose both 'everyday' flatware, and 'silver.' My tastes run toward the more usable, so I'll try to exert what influence I have on the everyday flatware -- think practical. I'll consider things like ergonomics (balance, how comfortable are they to hold, cut with, stick in my mouth, etc.), ease of cleaning (complex, deep patterns, and multi-materialed fabrications like wood-and-metal are discouraged); simple aesthetics (form = function); and durability (well built, heavy, not bendy like cafeteria silverware; stainless steel so I don't have to polish it).

I actually don't like the Curvware pictured above -- mostly because it doesn't stack compactly. The designer says that's a plus, but it's not one for me. As with many of my plans, my idea of furnishing a happy home revolves more around a simple one-room cabin than a palacial white-picket-fenced Victorian. And I'd rather fill the registry with woodworking tools than with tableware. But I am only half of this wedding, learning what society requires. And while I can ask "why?" and question the norms of society, I am less sure of my ability to actually change it without offending some, including the one most important to me. So I joke, and ask why, and ultimately cave to her wishes. That's how it works. Why? Oh, never mind.

The thing about flatware -- as with most other things I suppose -- is that you just can't tell what it'll feel like until you actually heft it. That said, I've been looking for flatware like that pictured on the left: with minimal-or-no pattern; spoons and forks with a flared handle (vs. narrow) so it's easier to ... um, handle; four tines on the fork because three feel odd in my mouth; and a shallow wide spoon dish because the steep-sided ones don't fint my tongue in an aesthetically-pleasing way. Yes, I am a tongue snob.