When A Salt Spoon Just Doesn't Cut The Mustard

The unassuming entrance of The London Silver Vaults does not betray the dazzling Aladdin's cave that awaits within

Photo: Chronica Domus

I've been on the hunt for a silver Georgian mustard pot.  I've always fancied the idea of delivering a dollop of biting mustard to one's dinner plate from an elegant receptacle aided, of course, by a small spoon made expressly for the purpose of this pleasurable task.

I just knew I'd chance upon the perfect pot during my recent visit to England which, I'm chuffed to report, I did.  Well, actually, my eagle-eyed husband did, one afternoon while out and about with my sister Penelope and me in Hertfordshire.  He's very well trained in these matters and enjoys the hunt as much as I. The drum-shaped sterling pot is two inches tall and was made in England in 1821.  It has an 'S' handle embellished with a leaf design.  When the thumb piece is depressed, it raises the flat lid. Happily, the original Bristol blue glass liner remains intact.  It slips smoothly into the mustard pot and is designed to facilitate ease of cleaning (I would not recommend buying a pot without its liner as replacements rarely fit correctly).  A family crest is centrally engraved upon the lid and appears to be a large breed dog, possibly an Irish Wolfhound.  I am thrilled my husband found it (thank you, dear!).

Of course, every mustard pot deserves a spoon. As such, my thoughts turned to the American coin silver salt spoon I acquired last December, of which I wrote about here. My intention was to repurpose it for mustard.  Would it appear a tad overbearing in scale and decoration as compared to the diminutive pot I wondered?  Realizing rather quickly that it would simply not cut the mustard (sorry, I am British after all, and one does so enjoy a little punning every now and then), a visit to my favorite London silversmith, William Walter Antique Silver was soon on the cards.

Now, let me tell you, this is no ordinary shop.  It really is not a shop at all in the conventional sense. You see business is, in fact, conducted from Vault Number 3 and 5, located deep beneath the capital's pounding pavements inside The London Silver Vaults.

Moving past the security desk and down into the vaults we descend

Photo: Chronica Domus

For anyone interested in viewing or acquiring household silver objects of every imaginable function and size (I'm not kidding, there's even a silver bed down there!), The London Silver Vaults should be your first port of call.  Once downstairs, meandering the warren of shops at leisure is a singular experience. Not only are the wares dazzling in terms of appearance and sheer quantity, but wandering from one vault to another, through heavy iron doors, is nothing short of surreal.  It is as though one has been let loose within the deepest recesses of Fort Knox.

Photography is not permitted downstairs but I did find this image on-line showing some of the vault doors which are kept open during business hours

Source

Now, getting back to the matter at hand, a spoon befitting my Georgian mustard pot. I had no doubt that John, who heads the team at William Walter, and with whom I've had the pleasure of purchasing several items of silver in the past, would be able to help.  I was not disappointed.  Laying down a flotilla of small spoons for my perusal - some used for salt, some for mustard, and others for goodness only knows what - I was spoilt for choice.  There were dozens of them!  John explained the large and varied stock of old silver at William Walter has been accumulated over a period of about sixty years.  This provides his lucky patrons with a broad selection of whatever it is they are seeking to purchase.

I believe the little mustard spoon I selected (whose elongated bowl sets it apart from those of rounded salt spoons) is perfectly scaled for use with my mustard pot.  And, it sits comfortably within the lid's slot. It is also period appropriate having been made in 1813 by Richard Stevens of Dublin, Ireland.  It too possesses a family crest, a bull.

I could not be more delighted to marry the Irish Georgian mustard spoon to the English Georgian mustard pot, a match made in heaven!

Photo: Chronica Domus

Another view of the mustard pot, its original Bristol blue glass liner, and the Irish Georgian mustard spoon
Photo: Chronica Domus

John not only has an extensive knowledge of old silver - to describe him as encyclopedic is not an exaggeration in the least - but he also has a true passion for the subject.  This is evident to anyone chatting to him for even a few minutes.  When doing so, be fully prepared to be dazzled by a silver oddity or two, followed immediately with an amusing tidbit about its history.  John's stories are always enthusiastically relayed for his fortunate audience's edification.

When I inquired about viewing, and subsequently purchasing, a sherry bottle ticket from his stash, John asked me what I thought was so unusual about the item.  Not surprisingly, I was stumped. He explained that the original black wax which fills the indentations of the letters S-H-E-R-R-Y remains intact, something not often seen after a few centuries of use.  Oh dear, I thought to myself, before making an alarming confession. I had tried in vein to remove what I thought was tarnish from the reeded decoration of a port bottle ticket I have at home... oops!

Lessons Learned: John tells me that the original black wax on the lettering of my Sherry bottle ticket, made by Charles Rawlings of London in 1828, is still intact unlike the wax from the reeded decoration around my Port label which I've foolishly attempted to remove believing it to be tarnish

Photo: Chronica Domus

This photograph, which John kindly allowed me to take on a previous visit, shows just a drop in the bucket of the goodies available for purchase at William Walter Antique Silver 

Photo: Chronica Domus

I do hope you make time to drop into The London Silver Vaults and visit John at William Walter Antique Silver when next in town.  I promise your efforts will be rewarded with a unique shopping (or browsing) experience.  There is, of course, no obligation to buy.  However, if you are inclined to enjoy shiny and beautiful objects, you'll find it very easy to empty the coffers, and happily so.

Now that I've secured the perfect mustard spoon for my pot, the only decision remaining is which of the trio of mustards will fill the Bristol blue glass liner next*

Photo: Chronica Domus

Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.


*For those interested, the walnut Dijon mustard won this round