Ode to the bamboo tray
also an ode to being a joyful, thoughtful maximalist
I joke often (too often?) that I am an old. For the most part, I am older than most of the people I work with and with many of my close friends. This truly doesn’t bother me … age is just a number, and also I’ve never been known to act my age anyway. But also, it doesn’t bother me because I just really love old stuff. My house is filled with pieces of furniture and decor that are mostly second-hand, majority vintage, and occasionally true antiques. We have wooden folding chairs that are over 100 years old from the church I grew up in. We have a wall festooned with antique doilies. We have a bookcase made in high school by an uncle I never met. We have two end tables that I inherited with a furnished apartment I rented right out of college.1
All that said, it will surprise you none that I never really embraced the minimalist trend. I appreciate the heart of being non-consumeristic. I love and agree with the idea that we have too much stuff. I am on board with our homes not being so cluttered that there’s no cohesion or value to what is there. But I also love a mix of patterns and a wild gallery wall. I am drawn to color-drenched spaces and a kitchen that looks like it belongs in a Nancy Myers movie. I am a joyful maximalist. Instead of feeling embarrassed or ashamed by that, I love being the friend someone calls when they need glass plates for a baby shower, last minute party decor, or a weirdly specific platter. Our home is filled with nooks and crannies and cabinetry that are stuffed full of things I use rarely; but man, when I use them does it ever spark so much joy for me.
At the top of this list of joyfully and specifically useful items is my bamboo tray collection. You may be thinking, “Holly … what on earth are you talking about? What is a bamboo tray and why would anyone have enough of them for it to be considered a collection?” Well, well, well … you’ve come to the right place.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of having a home that was open to an overflowing number of people. With four kids, sometimes our home feels overflowing when it’s just us at home. We have worked and prayed to arrange our lives so that we have lots of extended family nearby. So even when we have a close-extended family birthday gathering, there are 18 people there. I’m not bragging2, but I do want you to know that my starting place for any gathering is quite large. Even when we pull out the folding tables, it is not unusual for us to find ourselves in a situation where there just aren’t enough table seats for everyone. Enter the bamboo trays.
Bamboo trays, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways …
Bamboo trays stack wonderfully. Which is great both for storing and for setting out a serving line.
Bamboo trays are charmingly simple and neutral. Now, I know these words are rarely words associated with anything I do. But I love a tray that goes with any occasion.
Bamboo trays are easy to find once you know to look for them. Rarely do I go to an estate sale or a thrift store that I don’t spy one, tucked away in a corner or holding a collection of tchotchkes.
Bamboo trays are deceptively strong3. They can easily hold a plate of food, plus a drink without threat of breaking.
But there’s more to it than just utility. This stack of trays means our house is going to be FULL of noise and joy. It always symbolizes a gathering that is a bit wild and chaotic. Sometimes it means a Sharp family rarity, which is dinner in front of a movie or a special sporting event. The bamboo tray, for all its simplicity, means something special is coming.
Last week I pulled out a stack because we had 25 people coming to eat pancakes for Shrove Tuesday. I grinned as I pulled them from one of the three places I have them hidden around the house, remembering the Christmas that Kenny told both of our moms that this was what I wanted, and I received like 30 bamboo trays. (Weird Christmas gift for your average young mom, but I was thrilled.) As two men flipped pancakes, people who didn’t snag a table seat grabbed a tray and cozied up on the nearby sofa, chatting and laughing over the meal. Knowing the trays are always an option changes a party like the one we had last week from “yikes, where is everyone going to go” to “yay, I just heard from someone that they can come after all!” As I continue to move towards the balance of entertainment and hospitality, these trays are a tool to help me release my perfectionism and embrace messy connection4.
As I look around my home at the quirky maximalism that is so evident, the things that do spark the most joy are the things that mean more than just their beauty or their usefulness. I see the crocheted doily that a friend of my husbands great-grandmother made for her. I see art representing the different stages of life of our family. I see so many items gifted by people I adore for our wedding, a birthday, or just because. The items are truly just things, but they evoke the memories of a full life. Bamboo trays are just bamboo trays, of course. But Bamboo trays are also the fulfillment of one of the desires of my heart, a reminder of God’s faithfulness to surround my life with family, with friends, with deep community. The stack of trays reminds me of the gift of getting to open my home for a youth group cookout, a birthday party, a weirdly specific party.
Obviously, I’m not encouraging hoarding. I love spring cleaning as much as the next person. Last weekend, I joyfully helped one of my kids throw away 2 trash bags of stuff from her room. I can purge toys, clothes, things I don’t use with the best of them. But I’m not sorry to keep something I love, even if that’s not logical. A lot of those things I’ve talked about already; things that are beautiful or memory evoking. Other things, like my beloved trays, are items that are quietly community cultivating items.
I remember, years ago, chatting with some friends a couple of life stages ahead of me. These women had lived just two houses down from each other for two decades, raising their kids alongside each other. Their bamboo tray collection was a communal one. By the time I knew them, it was a little hazy whose trays were whose. Some had a name written on the bottom, but mostly they just traveled to whosever home was having the next gathering.
I want for my hospitality to be way more than just what I do here. I hope and pray that it spills over across the cul-de-sac and throughout the neighborhood. My friends know that these things I collect and use are open to all. I hope that my hospitality is truly open handed, allowing both useful items and a welcoming spirit to flow out of my home just as the joy of connection flows into it. The bamboo trays are just another tool in my arsenal. There’s nothing magic about them, really. But also … there really kind of is.
What is something you weirdly love like I love my trays? Do you have a hospitality secret sauce? Are you having a party and need to borrow my trays? Tell me all about it!
Statesville, NC again! I have been sad every time I’ve let go of a piece of furniture from that cute apartment. These two tables plus a lampshade are the last things left.
Okay, maybe I’m bragging a little bit. My kids have four amazing grandparents, beloved cousins nearby, a great-grandmother in our town, and great-aunts and great-uncles who want to know them. It’s pretty fantastic.
To be fair, we did have one break in dramatic fashion a few years ago when I sent one of our kids across the street with a tray laden with a casserole dish filled with food for a backyard dinner with neighbors. The handles gave way, the dish broke, the food was lost, their dog was very happy. I probably should have encouraged said child to carry it by the bottom.
Occasionally very messy. One of my own children spilled two full cups of apple juice during the Shrove Tuesday party. Guess where they weren’t set? ON THE TRAY.
This is amazing! We love to entertain too and now I need bamboo trays!
Holly, this was such a fun read! I have two bamboo trays that I’ll bring for you on Sunday during the 11:00 service. ;)
As a recovering Kardashian beige house owner, we could definitely use some help—haha! But I’ve always loved a home that feels lived-in, with layers, textures, and pieces that tell a story. When we first got married, we set up our home during lockdown, and as a result, everything ended up beige—safe, neutral, and, honestly, a little uninspired.
Now that we’ve grown a bit, I’m definitely feeling the pull away from that overly minimalist style and toward a space with more depth and personality. I’m excited to start layering in pieces that make our home feel more like us. I do love a good antique or tchotchke—there’s just something about those little treasures that make a space feel warm and interesting!