Yes – that is a real spoon. And, no – it’s not decorative, I actually use it.
I bought it from a craftsman in a market in a remote town in the mountains of far-eastern Turkey when I was over there working as an archaeologist. You should have seen me trying to get it on board in my carry-on luggage. Hilarious. Thankfully it was in the pre-September 11 days when things like novelty-sized eating utensils were permitted onto airplanes.
So when do I use it, other than to chastise errant children, you ask? (Who am I kidding? With a son who’s now 6’3” and a daughter who’s my height, I ain’t challenging ANYONE!😝)
Well, seeing as you asked, and even if you didn’t- it gets cracked out each autumn for my annual making-of quince paste and quince jelly session. Which also happens to be a danged fine way to avoid doing the things I should be doing. Such as writing the dedication for my next novel (see: previous post).
But quinces! Blink and you’ll miss them!