By: A Golden Griffin
It all started when I nearly burnt down my apartment trying to make pizza logs at 2 a.m. in a – let's say, merry – state on a Friday night. And like any merry person, I ate said pizza logs in bed.
When I was done, without a single thought I went to set my plate on my nightstand and missed by at least a foot. It was clear this tiny, green dessert plate I thrifted a few months prior had already been broken before. Right down the middle of it was a thin line of tan glue or paraffin holding the plate together; unfortunately, it didn’t do the best job of that. The plate split right back in half. Too merry to really care, I threw out the pieces and waited until the morning to grieve over my collection of just three plates turning to two.
The next day – after 45 minutes with AAA and a recharged car battery – I was at my Graceland: Goodwill. I knew I'd be able to find a cute set of similarly-sized plates just waiting for a good wash and a quirky kitchen to live in.
Using all of my restraint, I walked past the clothes and went straight to the china section. After just a bit of scanning I found a set of four white plates for less than $5 with a little chef – holding a fish in one hand and a plate of pizza in the other – painted in the center. I could only see the top plate because they were all taped together in a stack, but I was sold the second I saw the mustachioed chef and could only hope the three underneath were just-as-adorable variations of this pizza maker. My Goodwill good luck had my back once again.
As I washed the plates, charmed by the different chefs and their different settings, I noticed that they were real William Sonoma dishware – a total score, and one that only my grandma would appreciate. Distracted by this, it took me until I put them away to realize that under the brand logo were the little chefs’ names – a score that only I would appreciate.
Chef Lucien was the one who secured the sale at Goodwill. Chef Albert wears small, round glasses and holds a silver spoon while he smirks at what looks like a soufflé in his hands. Chef Jean-Claude – my favorite of the crew – stands by a stove holding a pot. He has his hand on his hip, a mustache and wears gingham pants instead of black ones like the rest of his cohort. The last chef is unnamed, but he has no glasses and no mustache, proving he's a new friend and not a repeat of the others. He stands with his arms crossed and eyes wide open in shock as he stares at a hen on the kitchen counter who had just laid an egg. The back of the plate reads, “I am a mother to be…”
I plan to be more careful with my plates now that there are precious faces on them that I don’t want broken to pieces, but another merry night with more pizza logs and broken plates is inevitable. So, if I do end up shattering the chefs, I’ll just hope that I’ll have another Goodwill trip where I end up taking home four men who can cook.
Comments