My Mama insisted we use sterling flatware at every meal while I was growing up. In Mama's mind, the idea that my DH and I were eating on stainless was just unfathomable. On the random birthday, anniversary, or Christmas (when she was functioning) she would give me a piece of sterling. Given it was hard for two people, much less four after the girls arrived, to eat with only a gravy ladle, one or two teaspoons, a two knives, and a fork, I found stainless the obvious choice.
Perhaps it was a good thing my childhood table was set with her Chantilly at each meal, otherwise we may have contracted some type of bungee bungee disease eating the meals she "prepared" that were semi cooked, burned to smithereens, or totally unrecognizable due to her affinity for the bottle. Maybe the alchemy of the sterling offset any affliction we may have contracted.
Given her state, at any given time, while I was growing up, or the state of her kitchen for that matter, it is a testament to innate breeding of the southern woman in her, that she insisted we eat with sterling silver flatware. There were times there was no meal, but the table was always set with the silver. Often we gathered only to realize dinner was not going to be ready before bedtime so we opted for sandwiches. It would not be unusual to find a severely burnt piece of beef in the oven a day or two later. I found it easier to throw out the pan with whatever was left over from the extensive roasting. And, yes, God looks after drunks, fools, southern women, and various combinations of the former, because our home never burned down.
I inherited my Mama's and my Grandmother's Chantilly flatware. If only it could talk - or not. The important thing is that it survived that generation and lived to serve another. And, although my DH and I enjoy eating our meals with sterling flatware, I can attest there is always a meal and I have yet to find a forgotten roast in the oven a day or two later - so far. But, then God looks after . . .