Arnold Zwicky's Blog

Precious black figs, in a plastic clamshell box with a separate teardrop compartment for each fig:

(#1) 7 of 12, in their figgy clamshell

(The figs were dead ripe, and delicious.)

Net sources offer a rich assortment of compartmented plastic clamshell boxes, known in the business as blister clamshells, as here (intended for small fruits, like strawberries):

(#2)

(Background on clamshell takeout boxes: in a section of this 7/9/17 posting “Ruthie copes: Moses and the doggie bag”.)

Now that the figs have been devoured, the clamshell box has been cleaned up and made available for service as a plastic vitrine — nice word, vitrine (‘a glass display case’ (NOAD)) — for small personal treasures of one sort or another:

(#3)

From the top left: a small jade tortoise from China (a symbol of longevity); a token from the MTA (now the MBTA) from the 1960s (“Get poor Charlie off the MTA”); a small plastic penis; my Phi Beta Kappa key; a penguin coin, all smoozhed up in one of those amusement arcade machines; a black and blue ceramic ladybug (just because it’s handsome); fossilized fish teeth from Florida; a silver mussel shell; spherical dice; an “I’d probably be famous if I wasn’t such a good waitress” button; a flint arrowhead unearthed in deep-digging a garden bed in Columbus OH; and of course a pink triangle.

This entry was posted on October 9, 2018 at 7:18 pm and is filed under Language and food, My life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.