I’m not sure when I fell in love with it. Perhaps it was the first time my mother handed me a glass of ice water in her stemmed pewter goblets and the tactile sensation of the frosty cold exterior made that the best water I had ever sipped. Or it could have been on a childhood visit to Williamsburg, Virginia where crisp salads were served on chilled pewter plates. Either way, I’ve adored the gleam, the feel, the patina of the metal for years. A while back I photographed a table setting for Kim Hoegger and couldn’t resist making this pewter pitcher the star of the shot.

I love that pewter isn’t a fancy metal. There is a down-to-earthness about it… one that has depth and a soft gleam that’s at home on a rustic table in the woods or on the finest linen at the fanciest of dinner parties. I should photograph my collection. To my joy, it’s become rather extensive over the years. And if you’re not yet a convert, pop by sometime and I’ll pour you a glass of ice water in the goblets my mother passed down to me. You’ll swear it to be the best you’ve ever had. I promise.