Tag Archives: cutlery

The Old Way Is Always Best

Cutlery is a fascinating subject. People have always used a sharp edged object, first of stone and late of metal, to cut their meat. Spoons came along very early in human history, and were undoubtedly shells or other natural spoon-like objects. The fork, however, was late in arriving, being invented in Italy sometime in the twelfth century, and consisted of a handle and a pair of sharpened tines. There is a scene in “Becket” where Thomas a Becket introduces a fork to King Henry II, explaining it was used to spear the meat and transfer it to the mouth, thereby keeping the fingers from becoming dirty. Henry says then the fork will get dirty, and Becket replies the fork is washable, and the King says so are the fingers, I don’t get the point. We’ve come a long way from the time shells were used for spoons, but sometimes I think the old ways are best. As it happens, I chanced upon my friend Og, hunkered down in front of his cave, night coming on, a large hairy beast burning on the slowly dying fire.



What think you, Og, of forks and knives

To help your many kids and wives

Consume yon hairy beast with some dispatch?

He grunted as he turned to stare

Into the flames as burning hair

Produced a stink that’s awfully tough to match

He said he had no use for those

And had contempt for folks who chose

To elevate themselves to what they’re not

There’s nothing wrong with using hands

To rip a carcass, veins and glands

And eat it even when it starts to rot

Technology will be the end

Of everything, now hear me friend

And listen when I say the old way’s best

At first we start with knives and spoons

And then after a few short moons

There’s dinner parties, place cards and the rest

And then I’ll have to wash my hands

And we’ll invite the other bands

With small talk sipping something on the rocks

Then candlesticks and table cloths

And bread bowls filled herby broths

And wifey will insist I change my socks

Where will it end, if once we start

For once we and the old ways part

Our lives will never be the way we were

I left him there on seeing that

The fire blazed with flaring fat

And the large smoking beast began to stir


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