A Dangerous Love

Strong, German, about 10 inches long and sharp as hell.   
Following our wedding whirlwind, like most couples do, we began using our gift cards to feather our nest.  It was so much fun and we were so grateful. In my mind, our $100 Williams Sonoma card was already spent.  I had been dreaming (on-line shopping) about my perfect kitchen tool; the one that would make all the difference.  That day,  I was surprised to see that Pete was excited about shopping.  He was expecting a shopping spree of high ball glasses, a blender and maybe a toaster!  I said nothing.

Long story short, we walked out 15 minutes later with a single item, My Knife.  We were heavy with chopping anticipation and light by about $30 cash.

I got home and immediately opened a bottle of wine and admired My Knife.  It was so shiny, strong and beautiful.   The chopping, slicing and dicing commenced.  I chopped everything that I could find; tomatoes, lemons, onions, soda cans and then back to the juicy ripe tomatoes**... and then somehow, my own fingers.  By the end of the night, a single little nick on my index finger turned into about a dozen tiny cuts all over my hands. Both hands somehow.  The wine.
The next day was Monday.  Work.  My boss and I were doing a mediation on a big case.   Mediations involve sitting at a table with other lawyers, a retired judge usually, insurance people, etc. talking, advocating, negotiating, and more lawyer stuff.  These are activities that, unfortunately can not be done with your hands hidden in a fur muff.   That day, my "power suit" was accented by 10 or so tiny Band-Aids placed all over my fingers ala Michael Jackson from the "Leave Me Alone" video.  My boss noticed so I put my hands up and shrugged "new knife."  He said nothing.

The hands went into my suit jacket pockets where they stayed for the day.  This is likely the most awkward of all awkward positions, try it. Its ridiculous.  But I didn't care.  I had My Knife and I loved it despite the pain and embarrassment.  I couldn't wait to get home to do more chopping.
About nine years later and I'm still with My Knife. These days, I crush garlic cloves like an angry cave woman, slice cucumbers while singing and dancing and carve through giant roasts with ease- like butter!  Over the years, My Knife has gradually taught me to respect its deadly sharpness, but has also made me the master of my kitchen.   My point about My Knife (pun intended) is its not about the shop from where you found it. Its not the price tag.  Its not its German-ness. Its value is in the way it makes you feel.  The weight of a good knife in your hand, can transform you from a home cook to The Chef in your own home.  Get one and fall in love. But, please be careful!

     What kitchen tool or gadget makes you feel like a Chef in your kitchen?

xo & a pinch ( & a tiny nick )


** For you millennials, YouTube a Ginsu Knife infomercial, circa 1985