Ode to the Stained Tablecloth
I’ve inherited my mother’s penchant for a finely dressed table. She liked to host Sunday dinners with coordinated plates and placemats and napkins folded into fans or geese or artfully tied through decorative rings. I don’t go quite that far but I do insist on cloth napkins, and I love a pretty tablecloth.
When friends come over to my house to eat, especially with children, they glance around nervously seeking paper towels, but if they pause long enough to peruse the table they’ll see that all are welcome here, even amateur soup slurpers. This year’s Thanksgiving tablecloth was printed with a scattering of acorns and stained with last year’s gravy, which now blends right in like a slightly crumpled oak leaf. Newly added dots of dripping cranberry sauce will artfully meld into the cornucopia of the fall harvest. For these reasons, I prefer patterns.
For cranberry stains: Flush with cool water. Mix one tablespoon white vinegar and one teaspoon liquid laundry detergent in one quart of cool water and soak stain in solution for 15 minutes. Rinse. If stain persists, sponge with rubbing alcohol and rinse. Launder using chlorine bleach, if safe for fabric.
Long before anyone arrives, I love to position myself at one end of the table, release the folded mass into the air and let it float gently down to the tabletop. As I smooth out the wrinkles and even the drape, I can trace the road map of imperfections and reminisce about the ghosts of dinners past, remembering which guests splotched my linens. Sometimes they immediately gasp and try scrubbing up the spill with their napkin, as if it were not, ahem, cut from the same cloth. But more often than not, I don’t find the drips until the party has ended, and I’m clearing everything away. I can usually identify the guilty party, but what they don’t know is that it is with joy and not malice that their fumble will be filed away in the fabric of our shared meal.
Finding the smudges that survive, the ones that valiantly persevere through the barrage of baking soda and hot water, lends a bit of credibility to both the vibrant cooking and the lively conversation that resulted in a distracted dollop. Usually it’s happy hands that flail through the air as a maestro nears a story’s crescendo and a hapless chicken wing takes flight. Who among us hasn’t over-gestured with a full glass, and isn’t that an indication that our glasses are, indeed, full? The only spilled milk that I ever cried over had been dutifully extracted from my own breasts.
For milk stains: Flush immediately with cold water. Scrub stain gently with 1 tablespoon hydrogen peroxide or 1 tablespoon lemon juice. Rinse and repeat as needed. Treat with stain remover and launder.
My mother has handed down loads of pristine white linens that I have to wonder if she even used. I can imagine her clearing the table with a reproachful look of dismay when one of our guests managed to soil her tablecloth beyond redemption. Maybe she single-handedly created the ad campaign to “Shout It Out!” Granted, she wasn’t one to serve red wine or tikka masala, so perhaps the occasional bleach bath kept her whites white, but I prefer patterns to camouflage crumbs. Before Vera Wang, there was Vera Neumann, exhibited at MOMA, honored by the Smithsonian, and seller of millions of dollars of home linens in the 1970s. Her tablecloths are some of my favorites, but I won’t be donating mine to any museums. The splotches and specks blend in nicely with her artful prints and colorful florals.
Despite my prettily set table, I’m not prone to putting on airs and I could care less which fork you use, although I hope it’s at least your own as I will make an effort to provide everyone with the needed utensils, forks on the left side, of course. But around my table you might also find mismatched chairs, chipped tea cups, and questionable culinary techniques, and if you should arrive for dinner slightly frayed around the edges or carrying the stains of your past transgressions, I would hope that you would find comfort in camaraderie and not let your stomach sink at the sight of my overfilled gravy boat.
For character stains: Soak the offended party in regret and apologies as soon as possible. Immerse oneself in 2 parts reparations and 1 part empathetic pursuit. If stain persists, ingest ample amounts of humble pie and trust that with time, even the worst stains will eventually fade into the fabric of one’s life.
—
Care to Share?
Consider posting a note of comment on this item:
—§—
Previous Post
—
Reader Comments
Love this! It feels good to read. –Sarah