The Ivory & Sterling Mystery Thingamajig Revealed

Did you correctly guess the purpose of the ivory and sterling thingamajig?

Photo: Chronica Domus

I have had such fun reading through the slew of comments received in response to the ivory and sterling thingamajig.  In fact, it has been one of the most popular mystery items in the entire series, inspiring many of you to come out of the woodwork in an attempt to solve this confounding little implement's intended purpose.  Without further ado, let's get to the answer.

The two most popular guesses were that it was either one of these ...

A marrow spoon or scoop

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or one of these ...

A Stilton scoop

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followed in hot pursuit by one of these ...

A cheese corer

(this one is an English nineteenth century oak, brass, and steel corer belonging to my husband)

Photo: Chronica Domus

I had a sneaking suspicion that these would be the top guesses, all plausible to be certain but, surprisingly, all incorrect.  

Now, I'll be honest and admit to you that I purchased the mystery thingamajig because I too thought it was a scoop to aid in the delivery of Stilton to one's plate. I have been on the hunt for such a scoop for some time but those I've come across have been rather large and unwieldy, and better suited for use with larger truckles.  

Plunged into a truckle of crumbly Stilton cheese the shovel-shaped scoop does an admirable job of delivering cheese to plate with minimal fuss and mess

Photo: Chronica Domus

Which is why when I first set eyes upon the mystery thingamajig, I knew it was going home with me.  At just shy of six inches, it was perfect for a smaller truckle. It could also, I supposed, be used to scoop out potted Stilton.  As a bonus, the sterling shank was fashioned into an unusual hemispherical scoop rather than the typical shovel shape.  

The description on the dealer's tag read "English sterling Stilton scoop with bone handle" but my teenage daughter saw things differently

Photo: Chronica Domus

My observant and inquisitive teenage daughter took one look at my newly acquired prize and deemed it an apple corer.  "An apple corer?" I repeated, "surely not".  I was left somewhat slack-jawed by the suggestion but, suddenly, the shape of the scoop made perfect sense.  Sure enough, a quick gander on the Internet confirmed her suspicions.  Who'da thunk it?!  

Here's one made by Thomas Hyde I of London, circa 1770 ...

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... and another, a Georgian ivory and sterling apple corer, circa 1816

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I marvel at the fact that I am now the proud owner of an apple corer for the first time in my life.  And, its an elegant one at that.  I had no idea such utilitarian kitchen objects could be elevated to the sublime.  

My thingamajig apple corer was made in London by silversmith Henry Holland Sr. in 1853

Photo: Chronica Domus

It does a masterly job of removing the core from the last of the winter farmers' market apples

Photo: Chronica Domus

Photo: Chronica Domus

What a satisfyingly elegant way of performing a basic kitchen task

Photo: Chronica Domus

As it turns out, my apple corer is far from being deemed one of the more elegant examples available for sale during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.  Those were made entirely of sterling silver, like the one pictured below:

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Some apple corers were even designed to be portable and used during travel or for picnicking.  The corer can be unscrewed from its handle and stored within it when not in use.

A Georgian sterling silver traveling apple corer, London circa 1803

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If you are interested in learning more about these little-known utensils, I highly recommend you read Dorothea Burstyn's informative article found here.

Thank you all for participating in what I hope has been a fun and enlightening guessing game.  I believe my daughter won this round and has earned her ranking, having been the only participant to have correctly solved the mystery of the ivory and sterling thingamajig.  She was also the inspiration for this post, of course.

Source: Pinterest

Do please join me in giving her a well-deserved round of appl(e)ause.

Mystery Object: An Ivory and Sterling Thingamajig

Photo: Chronica Domus

I do so love the word thingamajig.  It is a delightful word that, in my ever so humble opinion, is underappreciated and not used often enough.  Today's post provides the perfect opportunity to change all that.

Thingamajig is defined as a thing whose name one has either forgotten or does not know.  In the case of this particular object, or thingamajig, I thought I knew its name and its intended purpose until, that was, my very clever teenage daughter Patience entered the discussion.

Hmmm... I wonder what the purpose of this ivory and sterling silver thingamajig might be

Photo: Chronica Domus

She was with me the day I purchased it and saw how tickled pink I was to have finally stumbled across such an unusual example - or so I thought - of a longed-for item.  Upon our return home, I excitedly removed said object from the layers of tissue paper within which the store clerk had wrapped it, and gave it a quick polish until it gleamed.  It was then that my daughter casually put forth a suggestion.  In that brief light bulb moment, Patience had me viewing the darn thing with fresh eyes.  

The back of the mystery thingamajig's shank showing full British hallmarks

Photo: Chronica Domus

Sure enough, a quick gander on the Internet only confirmed what she had already successfully sussed out.  No longer relegated to thingamajig status, the object could finally be defined by its true name and purpose.

So, what do you think this almost six inch long, ivory and sterling silver item is, and what was it used for?  All shall be revealed in my next post.  In the meantime, I very much look forward to reading your supposals and contemplations with interest.  And remember, no peeking on the Internet allowed!


Nota bene: Comment moderation will be enabled to give everyone a chance to offer their suggestions.  

Life's Little (Long) Weekend Pleasures

Nota bene: I was able to sneak the highly-fragrant posy you see below into the marital bedroom because my husband happened to be away on a business trip the day I snapped the photograph below; such a transgression would be unthinkable otherwise and near grounds for divorce - you can read why, here.

An engaging book and a bedside posy of home-grown narcissus Avalanche helps to ease one comfortably into a relaxing Sunday morning

Photo: Chronica Domus

Several days ago I received a nice comment from one of my loyal readers.  "CD, CD, wherefore art thou?  I miss you!".  Reading it made me realize that I have not been particularly punctual with my posts here at Chronica Domus lately.  Had it really been an entire month since I last published anything or, for that matter, have had the luxury of visiting my favorite blogs?  I am afraid it really has been.

Since the beginning of January, my days have held an almost elastic quality to them.  My real-world professional obligations have stretched too far into my waking hours which, sadly, has left little time to pursue the more pleasurable aspects of life, including the upkeep of this blog.  I won't even mention the alarming state of my garden.  Shudder.  As you can imagine, the long President's Day weekend could not have arrived soon enough.  Three entire days to revel in the little things in life that provide the greatest of pleasure.  I consider one of those pleasures to be sleep.

I don't know about you but a few extra hours of sleep on a weekend morning has become a luxurious indulgance the older I get.   If I can make it to 8 a.m. in the comfort of my bed, I just know it's going to be a good day.  It pains me to admit that, try as I might, I am not a natural early riser.  I admire those of you that are up and about enjoying the crepuscular light of dawn, catching sight of colorful skies painted by the first shafts of light.  That said, on most weekday mornings I do tumble out of bed before dawn, heavy-eyed and yawning.  This is done not out of choice, mind you, but to fulfill my familial and workday obligations.  I am also charged with serving breakfast to Norton and the hungry clowder of neighborhood ferals.  They have certainly trained me well.  As I hurriedly dart about, I barely notice when daylight eventually does break.  In another life, I would be found snoozing well into the morning which is why I do so enjoy the luxury of a slower start to a weekend morning.  Those precious few restorative hours of slumber truly rejuvenate my body and soul.  Only then am I able to focus on a full weekend of running errands, visiting the farmers' market, gardening, social obligations, and general good old-fashioned fun.  

Sunday mornings are also when I am able to loll about in bed, enjoying a good read. I have only just cracked open a book that I purchased two years ago when I visited the charming collegiate city of Cambridge, England.  Titled Below Stairs In The Great Country Houses, Adeline Hartcup's fascinating book recalls with delicious detail several real-life accounts of how many of Britain's most famous country houses were run.  If you are a fellow devotee of the much-missed television series Downton Abbey, you too will enjoy reading about the strict hierarchy adhered to - and the minefield of social blunders to be avoided - by the many characters that lurked both above and below stairs.

How about you, which of life's little (long) weekend pleasures give you the most satisfaction?