Its silver is tarnished, if it is silver. Maybe it’s silver plate dulled by the years. I don’t know any more about this serving dish’s pedigree now than I did when I was 15. I know only that my mother loved it. And because she loved it, I saved it. And because I saved it, for a few seconds one week ago, it became more than a dish. It became a time machine.

But first the rabbit: