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Collecting Tea Pots
November 26, 2024
Collecting Teapots Blog — November 22, 2024
Recently, a young woman from Cincinnati Magazine called to let me know that they were writing an article about our collection of teapots at BonBonerie. A photographer soon arrived. Our teapots are nestled in spots all over the bakery, café, and tearoom, and I led her from space to space, pointing out the ones I loved the most. Occasionally, I discovered one or two I had even forgotten about. Mary Pat once took an inventory of all of them. She said there were well over two hundred. There might be more than that by now because of the generosity of some of our lovely customers who have bequeathed their teapots to us.
I don’t think I’ve ever refused a single pot. While unwrapping each newspaper-protected package, I feel the thrill of unveiling a treasure. Another way our teapot collection continues to grow is simply because I cannot resist buying the undiscovered teapot modestly sitting on a forgotten shelf at a flea market. My entire being lights up like an archaeologist on a dig when I spot a new teapot. When the photographer asked me to choose my favorites for the shot, I couldn’t stop choosing. I haven’t tired yet of eating delicious pastries nor of gazing upon a well-crafted teapot, plain or fancy. The photographer finally got her shots, but as she left, I wished I had shown her one of my other favorites. They all deserved their day in the spotlight.
On another day, the writer came by for the interview. It was interesting to hear my own life revealed through the stories of a collection of teapots. I told her how I had always preferred tea over coffee until I began working at Tawana Imports in Clifton. When I arrived each morning, my coworker had usually started a percolator of coffee for us to share, along with a delectable breakfast pastry from Virginia Bakery, whose alluring smells wafted into the shop just two doors down from us. I forced myself to learn to like coffee because of that experience, but tea would always be my preferred hot drink.
Frequenting tearooms as a girl in Cincinnati was a charmed experience, and I relished all the afternoons I shared with my girlfriends while we shopped at Mabley & Carew or Shillito’s, often taking a break for lunch or enjoying a snack in one of their tearooms. Who could forget the clown ice cream cone presented upside down in a silver dish? I never will.
My mother put on a tea party for my sister’s sixth birthday. Maureen and all the other six-year-old partygoers drank out of heirloom porcelain teacups, which had been handcrafted in factories in Germany—factories that had since been destroyed during World War II. The teacups were treated with great respect and handled with care. Beautiful dishes on the table elevated our everyday life. It still does as far as I am concerned.
None of those teapots, however, are part of the collection at BonBonerie, but my memory of those experiences seduced me to collect teapots. I cannot know all the stories that are hidden within the pots I have collected, but I know they are imbued with sad moments, awkward introductions, important family gatherings, and intimate conversations.
When we opened our own tearoom, my family found a way to give me a teapot for almost every birthday for a while. My mom traveled after she retired and would bring home teapots for me from places I had never been. I have a teapot from Loch Ness in the shape of the Loch Ness monster, an Austrian hunter’s teapot with horses and horsemen holding guns chasing each other around the circumference, a facsimile of an Irish cottage, and a teapot that resembles an old-fashioned stove covered with small teapots with a sleeping cat as a lid.
When I was in art school, one of my required classes was ceramics. I immediately wanted to make a teapot because I loved tea. My teacher allowed me to see for myself the folly of my choice, and my teapot was a total disaster. But I did get an education on just how magnificent a great teapot design really was. The handle mustn’t get too hot and also needs to provide just enough space for one’s hand to support the hot water and tea brewing inside. The lid must fit delicately to keep it from falling off as the pot is tilted to pour. The spout must not dribble but allow the delicious brew to flow into a teacup without a spill or a splash. Finally, it must be thin enough to be picked up when filled with hot water and tea leaves, yet strong enough to do the same—all while looking beautiful.
Many newer ones are designed to look clever or silly and not really designed for brewing tea. I do not collect those kinds of teapots anymore. A collectible teapot for me is one that has a successful history of brewing and delivering its brisk contents to my cup. A teapot’s appeal is when its function is flawlessly crafted with elegance and efficiency.
I have accrued a few other collections. I absolutely love brooches and earrings. In the food industry, many of us do not wear rings, necklaces, or bracelets. They can be a working hazard, but I still love jewelry. Brooches and earrings stay out of the way. For some inexplicable reason, I have become attracted to French and English figurines holding flowers or getting ready to romp about.
But the teapot remains one of my favorites. They are such a simple yet complex example of beauty and utility as equal partners. I’ve had to stop serving tea from my collection at BonBonerie after years of witnessing accidental breakage as dishwashers had to hurriedly do their jobs. Broken handles and spouts of my favorites appeared too often in the trash bin. I decided to preserve them instead by displaying them in all their glory throughout BonBonerie, and I continue to marvel at every new one that comes my way.
