Photo: Chronica Domus
It has been sometime since I last published a post on Arcane Dining Oddities, so today I'd like to remedy this by introducing you to the lowly slop bowl.
With such an unappetizing name, you might well be asking yourself "what, in heaven's name, is a slop bowl"? Is it, perhaps, a bowl from which to serve thin gruel? Might its purpose be to hold a dog's dinner? A slop bowl would certainly make an exceedingly stylish kibble bowl, particularly if one were the owner of a small pampered pooch. This all sounds like fodder for one of my Relics Reimagined posts, come to think of it.
"No, the silver slop bowl does not contain your dinner you naughty little dog!"
Made of metal or some type of ceramic, a slop bowl's sole purpose was for the collection of dregs from the bottom of one's tea cup. Leftover tea, along with any tea leaves, would be placed into the bowl in preparation for pouring another round of tea. Once considered an essential piece of tea time equipage, the slop bowl, alas, is no longer to be found as part of a modern day tea service.
Its demise may have had something to do with the popularity of the dreaded tea bag, convenient in a pinch to be sure, but please loose tea, always! The invention of strainers, held over tea cups to catch errant tea leaves as they escape from a pot's spout, has also rendered the slop bowl inessential.
Obviously these rakish dandies have misplaced their slop bowl, along with the host's saucer - the horror of it all!
Of course none of this obsolescence matters to me as I take pleasure in using my slop bowls and have no trouble setting them to good purpose. It only dawned on me when taking the photographs to accompany this post that I've somehow amassed an embarrassing number of these rather handy little bowls over the years. Several of them were found with their accompanying tea or coffee pots, milk jugs, and sugar basins. Others were purchased individually, having long become separated from their tea mates.
The examples I show from my collection mostly date from the first half of the nineteenth century, with a few that were possibly manufactured as early as the 1790's. All are of English origin and decorated with bat prints or restrained bands of color and wisps of gilding. The bowls vary in size but most are about five inches across and three to four inches in height.
One of my favorite slop bowls is the one shown in the photograph below. I am partial to its delicate grisaille toned vignettes, known as bat prints, a popular form of decoration employed by Josiah Spode and his contemporaries, during the early nineteenth century. I date the bowl to around 1805 and I feel most fortunate to have it in my collection, together with a number of tea cups and saucers showing similar landscape prints. I cannot tell you how delicious and flavorful tea tastes when sipped from one of these delicate bone china cups, an altogether different experience from the thicker-walled tea cups or mugs of today.
One of my favorite slop bowls is the one shown in the photograph below. I am partial to its delicate grisaille toned vignettes, known as bat prints, a popular form of decoration employed by Josiah Spode and his contemporaries, during the early nineteenth century. I date the bowl to around 1805 and I feel most fortunate to have it in my collection, together with a number of tea cups and saucers showing similar landscape prints. I cannot tell you how delicious and flavorful tea tastes when sipped from one of these delicate bone china cups, an altogether different experience from the thicker-walled tea cups or mugs of today.
An English Regency era slop bowl manufactured by Spode in 1805
Photo: Chronica Domus
A view of the other side showing a charming scene of two ramblers traversing an idyllic landscape
Photo: Chronica Domus
The much squatter bowl seen below exhibits yet another bat print, this time showing what appears to be a church-like building set among trees and hills. I am uncertain as to which of the British ceramic factories made this bowl, but if I were to guess, I'd say New Hall.
A detailed view of my New Hall(?) slop bowl
Photo: Chronica Domus
Several years ago, on a summer's walk through the town of St. Albans, located in Hertfordshire, I spied the bowl seen below, through the shop window of an antiques dealer.
A Barr Flight slop bowl circa 1792 to 1807 appearing a little more vivid in color than in the flesh
Photo: Chronica Domus
I instantly fell in love with the burnt orange ground and delicate gilt foliate decoration. To my dismay, the shop was closed. It was, after all, a Sunday afternoon, a time when not much is open for business in the smaller towns of England. I telephoned the shop the following morning inquiring about the bowl and was informed by the very knowledgeable and chatty owner that it formed part of a tea service of half a dozen cups and saucers, a sugar basin, milk jug, and a teapot stand. Sadly, the teapot had most likely met a gruesome death at some point in its history. My heart raced as I sheepishly asked the price for all sixteen pieces. I almost fainted upon hearing it. Really, it was very reasonable for such things. In a fit of extravagance (it wasn't as though I actually needed yet more tea wares), I committed to purchasing the lot and asked my very nice father if he could drive me back to St. Albans from my parents' house in London to pick up my loot. If any one knows where a teapot of this design lurks, I'd love to hear from you.
A rarity in my collection is a slop bowl that posed quite a mystery for Geoffrey Godden, one of the most distinguished experts in the field of nineteenth century English ceramics.
The mystery orange and gilt slop bowl now in my collection
Photo: Chronica Domus
The indefatigable Mr. Godden has written numerous books on the subject and as you can imagine, has assembled many pieces for his reference collection. Every now and then, Mr. Godden releases a number of those pieces for sale at auction. I happened to take rather a fancy to the bowl in the preceding photograph, adoring its spare orange and gilt decoration. I ended up as the successful bidder on both the bowl and a plate of the same design.
The provenance of the mystery slop bowl has stumped even the experts
Photo: Chronica Domus
I am certainly no expert in these matters, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I do see a resemblance in form to the orange colored Barr Flight bowl I show earlier in this post. I love a good mystery and wonder if Mr. Godden also considered this fact in his examination of the unidentified slop bowl.
Notice how the shape of this slop bowl closely resembles that of the Barr Flight example
Photo: Chronica Domus
Another star of my collection is one that Reggie Darling would instantly recognize, being that he too is a fan of this classically inspired motif and a fellow ceramics collector. He wrote a wonderful post several years ago about his urn saucer which is adorned with the same exquisite classical urn found on my slop bowl. I located this elegant example in England, along with two companion pieces, and it takes my breath away each time I lay eyes on it. It is sublime.
A Factory Z Thomas Wolfe slop bowl circa 1800
Photo: Chronica Domus
In researching this post, I discovered that this particular pattern was a mystery piece for a number of years and fell into the "Factory Z" category of British ceramics, a catch-all place for unidentified patterns. Following extensive research, the ceramic experts have since identified the decoration as "Pattern Number 24", manufactured by Thomas Wolfe at The Potteries in Stoke-on-Trent, England.
A Davenport black basalt slop bowl circa 1800 to 1810
Photo: Chronica Domus
Regular readers of this blog will no doubt be aware of my black basalt bent, so it will come as no surprise that a basalt slop bowl forms part of my collection. This one was made by Davenport and is adorned with a graphic engine-turned decoration that would not look so out of place in today's modern world. Michelin tire treads spring to mind, wouldn't you agree?
Photo: Chronica Domus
I find slop bowls are not only a pleasure to look at, they are also very useful items to employ for entertaining. I've used mine to hold dips and spreads when serving hors d'oeuvres, and for lashings of whipped cream when serving dessert at the conclusion of a dinner party. They make excellent receptacles for nuts at cocktail hour, and I've even pressed my basalt bowl into service for hyacinth forcing.
I hope you've enjoyed this introduction to the obsolete and arcane slop bowl, and would consider seeking one or two of these serviceable bowls for use in your own home. You might very well find them mislabeled as sugar basins, which were typically much narrower and taller and often designed with handles and a lid, but now you know better.
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