Who Made Your Plates?

“It is a wondrous thing that long after it has ceased to be necessary, people still want to make pots on the potter’s wheel. And luckily for the people who want to make them, there are still people who want to use them. In fact, the number of makers and users grows and grows. What is the attraction?” -Clary Illian, A Potter’s Workbook

The question “Where does our food come from?” has become more on people’s consciousness lately. Increasing numbers of people have begun to buy their food at local farmer’s markets- purchasing freshly harvested produce from the farmers themselves. The very hands that give me my change are passing on the very carrots that they pulled from the ground that morning.

This brings me to wonder about these tasty meals we cook up and eat on Fresh Food Sundays. Are people enjoying these meals to their fullest potential? What is the food placed upon? Are these carefully harvested, exquisitely prepared meals brought to their famished diners on machine made plates from China? What is our connection to these machines in China? They are swift and soulless. Do these machine jiggered dishes enhance our dining experience? Not at my house.

I have been a long time user, collector, and maker of pots. As long as I can remember, my family used handmade pots made by our neighbor Ira who was a potter and taught my brother to make pots at a young age. The summer I was twelve my mother enrolled me in classes at Portland Pottery, where I made lots of heavy bowls and cups. I’d like to think my hormones raged a little less as a young teen because of eating cereal out of these bowls every morning.

For the same reason that my favorite eggs are plucked from the coop by the woman I buy them from every Sunday, my favorite dishes are made by people I know. I can’t help but share in the joy that they had in creating it while I’m sipping tea from it. Just this morning while making scones, I used my oldest and most cherished of mixing bowls. I thought of the humble potter in Vermont who made it. I was transported back to a wonderfully green land of rolling hills and potteries converted from old dairy farms, all while standing in my kitchen cutting cold butter into flour to form pea sized crumbs.

Quite a long time ago the jar that once stored grain or the jug that held moonshine was made by the village potter. Get to know your local potter, take a piece home and enhance your dining experience.

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Don't miss Flagstaff Open Studio Tours this weekend.

Ceramics classes in the Flagstaff Area where you can make your own bowl.