Serving green beans on silver trays
Mangia! Mangia!
ANTOINETTE JACKSON

February was my turn to be hostess for the Catholic Women's Bible Study.

There's nothing like coffee and tea poured from silver pots to brighten up a gray winter day, so I brought out the polish. "What are you doing?" my husband Bob asked.

"I'm going to polish the coffee and tea service for the ladies who will be here on Tuesday.

"I'll give you a hand," he offered.

Reminiscing about the happy times we shared as we used the silver and the family and friends who gave them as gifts while polishing has always been one of the projects we enjoy doing together.

"Great," I said, offering him a buffing cloth.

On Tuesday, with Mother Jackson's hand-embroidered tablecloth as a backdrop, the coffee and tea service was shining as brightly as the day when Bob brought for me on our tenth anniversary.

As I poured beverages and offered cookies from shining trays, the Bible study ladies took notice and complimented me on the table.

"Kids don't want silver any more," said Sulin Nelson.

"Really? Why not?" I asked.

"Too much work," she answered.

With our children all in Southern California, I wasn't that aware that polishing family heirlooms would be considered work.

In a little more than six months, our home was blessed with a three-day visit from daughter Marjorie, her husband Jeff and their youngest daughter, Paige.

For this special occasion, I set the dinner table with my good china, crystal, silverware and a few silver serving pieces.

"I hear you kids don't like to bother with silver any more," I said as I passed around my mother's recipe for green beans served in my mother-in-law's oval vegetable dish.

"Not me," Marjorie responded, reaching for the silver gravy bowl.

"Since we don't entertain like we did when we lived in California, I've got a closet full of stuff I never use anymore," I said. "Your grandparents, aunts and uncles, and our friends gave us many pieces as gifts the first few years we were married. How would you like to have some of them?"

"I'd love to have them," she answered, pleasing both her father and me.

"I'll go through my collection and send some to you," I promised.

I meant to get right on the project, but time presented other priorities and shipping the silver to Marjorie got put on a back burner.

When the invitation to their daughter Karlie Rose's wedding came in the mail a year later, I said to Bob, "Maybe it's time to get all that silver together and get it to Marjorie."

"Why don't you call and ask her if she still wants it," he suggested.

"I'm getting ready for Karlie's bridal shower here at the house in two weeks. I'd love to be able to use it," Marjorie responded.

Sunday afternoon, with Bob on the golf course, and a heavy-duty three-foot square box in front of me, I could no longer procrastinate.

From the bottom of the guest room closet, I pulled out the huge plastic bag with irregularly shaped objects carefully wrapped in newspapers, aluminum foil and plastic wrap.

On top was the pedestal roll-top butter dish my Aunt Evelyn gave us as a wedding gift.

It was sideways on top of an oval celery dish.

As I picked up the butter dish, one of the legs crumbled, exposing a corroded and rusted outline of the leg of the dish

Oh dear, had I ruined my precious collection by not wrapping things as airtight as my mother-in-law had advised me?

Next was a carafe on a pedestal warmer that Bob's sister Clara and her husband Jack had given us.

Wrapped tightly in heavy foil, it was tarnished but not pitted.

It would be a nice piece to serve coffee from at the shower, just as I had done so many times at our own dinner table.

Under the carafe was a large, deep bowl I was awarded for being the outstanding home economics graduate from Cal State in 1969.

So much more practical than a trophy, when I wasn't using it as a punch bowl or large salad bowl, it served as a table centerpiece filled with artificial fruit in the summer and silver ornaments at Christmastime. Could I part with it? Would I use it? Into Marjorie's box it went.

Alongside the bowl was the footed rectangular chafing dish with a Pyrex insert Jay gave us as a wedding gift.

"You can use it to serve lasagna," she chuckled as I unwrapped it in 1974.

And I did, many times serving family and friends lasagna or manicotti from it as the first course.

It went into my "keep" pile with a promise to myself I would use it on the next special occasion.

Slowly and painfully I went through each of the special pieces.

There was the ice bucket Bob picked out with the help of his mother as a Christmas gift for me.

We kept wine bottles chilled in it during company meals and champagne bottles iced at New Year's Eve.

Now we hardly ever stayed up until midnight.

Jeff and Marjorie had many occasions to celebrate ahead of them. The ice bucket would have a new home with them.

At the bottom of the pile were several trays, platters and serving dishes with scalloped edges.

They were carefully wrapped in heavy-duty aluminum foil and pages of the Portland, Maine Press Herald.

Knowing how much her son and I loved silver, when Mother Jackson closed her catering business, she saved many special pieces for us.

These heirlooms would definitely be passed on to Marjorie to be used at the shower.

It took hours for me to unwrap, think about the gift, the giver and the occasions the pieces were used.

Sometimes I smiled at the memory. Sometimes I shed a tear because that special person was no longer with us.

By the time Bob got in from the golf course, I had reached the bottom of the huge bag.

"What are you up to," he said as he looked at the small stack and one twice its size next to it.

"Getting ready to send these to your daughter tomorrow," I responded wearily.

"Which one is ours?" he asked.

The small one. And I promise to take them out and use them at least once a year," convincing even myself. "There is so much history here, I'm going to include a note about who gave us some of the items."

The next day, with a letter enclosed and the box firmly secured with yards of packaging tape, we shipped our Jackson family treasures to California.

Before long, it was November and we were at Marjorie and Jeff's home in Riverside, Calif., for a beautiful backyard wedding reception held for 125 close friends and family.

There were several familiar shining silver pieces stacked on the buffet and on the kitchen counter.

Curious as to whether they were ones we had sent, I picked up a tray and turned it over.

There etched on the back was my old California driver's license number.

"Look, Bob," I said, calling him over to where I was standing. "This was your parents' serving tray. I wish your mother and father were still alive and could have been here with us today. They'd be so proud of Marjorie and her family."

"They sure would," he said, with a big New England lump in his throat.

Company Green Beans

Mom always prepared vegetables tossed with garlic lightly browned in olive oil.

I was a teenager when I discovered non-Italians ate their vegetables with a pat of butter.

I call these my "company" green beans because they taste even better when passed around the table in a silver serving dish and are the perfect vegetable accompaniment to a hearty Italian meal.

1 14 oz. package whole baby green beans

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 3 cloves garlic, sliced

Pepper to taste

Cook green beans in salted boiling water according to package directions until just done. Drain and set aside.

In a separate pan, sautØ garlic in extra virgin olive oil.

Carefully add green beans to the pan and toss together for another minute or two until thoroughly heated.

Transfer to serving dish and season with freshly ground black pepper. Serves six.

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Antoinette Jackson is a Bullard-area resident. You may reach her at Antojxn@aol.com.