Regarding my previous post: For the record, I was joking. I have never, to the best of my recollection, buried my chef's knife in a bus boy’s back. Now and then, a playful poke with the point, perhaps. But I’ve always tried to avoid major nerves and blood vessels.
And I have assiduously kept away from bone, which can easily dull a knife’s delicate edge, and damage the point, as well. The point is the most vulnerable part of a chef’s knife’s anatomy. (On the other hand, the most vulnerable part of the chef’s own anatomy is his liver.) Functionally, the point is the knife’s least useful anatomical feature. In the professional kitchen, it is not unusual to see knives that have lost their points, either through mishap, or because they have been deliberately ground down to avoid accidents. The redoubtable Chinese clever closely resembles a French chef’s knife with the point and first third of its length removed.
The most expensive chef’s knives are forged, and much is made of this fact in the magazine ads. Forging steel is a process akin to making puff pastry: the steel is folded over upon itself again and again to form layers. This aligns the molecules in a way that makes the steel less brittle, and increases its tensile strength. That is to say, if bent, the molecules will be better able to remember and return to their original alignment. What are the advantages to forged steel in kitchen knives?
In fact, few to none. The modern surgeon’s scalpel is made from rolled, as opposed to forged, steel. Now, maybe it’s just the anesthesia; but I’ve never heard a patient complain about a dull scalpel. The superior tensile strength of forged steel is unimportant in a scalpel that will never have to cut through anything tougher than a Barrette’s esophagus or a Buxton wallet. Great tensile strength is no more important in a kitchen knife that will be used as intended, and not as a can opener or tire iron.
In addition to being a chef, I collect knives. Among these are more than a few one-of-a-kind originals made by Howard ‘Fat’ Burns. Some of these beauties have blades that Howie cut out of flat stock. Others were salvaged from damaged knives, files, saws, and in one case, a leaf spring from a split-window Volkswagon beetle. Some blades he polished like mirrors; a few he blued like a gun; one he heat-treated to create a rippling, rainbow surface resembling legendary Damascus steel (for at least 20 years, Howie’s been promising ‘My nephew’s gonna forge us up a batch of real Damascus steel…’). For handles, Howie favors fiddle back maple, walnut, cherry, or whatever more-or-less exotic material he finds, or more typically, that finds him.
These knives are spectacularly beautiful. If Howie charged a fair price for his time, let alone for his artistry, they would start at several hundred dollars. Taking them out on special occasions gives me great pleasure. They have functioned as photographers’ props, and look just great when carving at the table. There is one I invariably reach for when a job requires unusual precision, such as carving a chicken or turkey, then replacing the meat on the frame. But for the most part, these knives are neither meant for, nor up to, the rigors of the workplace.
It is significant that the blade of my aforementioned favorite poultry carver was ground down and reshaped from the blade of a Victorianox knife. Knives with blades made from exactly the same metallurgical recipe can be purchased most reasonably*. In place of the expensive, triple-riveted wood or micarta slabs is a functionally superior handle of molded polypropylene or similar synthetic material. These knives sail through the dishwasher, taking strong detergents in their stride. A few swipes on the butcher’s steel restores them to razor sharpness.
As a beginner, you can save a great deal of time and money if you realize that it is not through buying more and costlier equipment that you progress as a cook. With knives of this type, you will have given yourself every edge that mere equipment can confer. Just be ever mindful that the battle of the kitchen will not be decided by your steel, but by your mettle.
*For more information, you may e-mail me at henrysummers@msn.com
