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Some friends came over last weekend, and said that the inner courtyard of my apartment building reminds them of a prison cell block. Of course they’re completely right, and now it’s all I can think about when I step outside.
I’m willing to put up with it for these few months — though Milhouse’s father would not look out of place in this apartment — but one thing I could tolerate no longer: the knives.
After enduring for weeks knives that were so dull that they were long past being dangerous, I discovered that they could not cut cold butter and my bottomless patience was exhausted.
It was suggested that if I were limiting myself to exactly one knife, it should be this 18cm santoku:
Using the Global santoku is like watching girls make out. I thought that I was keeping my knives sharp in Boston, but I was badly mistaken, and I cannot rest until I’ve learned to replicate this factory edge.
I bought a bushel of tomatoes, just to cut them up.
I sang a song while I did it.
dria said,
April 8, 2008 @ 08:16
Huzzah! I assure you, the weird little water sharpener I told you about will allow you to replicate that factory edge (or possibly better) in about 35 seconds. Promise.
Nic said,
April 10, 2008 @ 07:40
I’ve always found it awfully tony to take them to “my knife guy” and get them sharpened. I’ve got enough kit here to sharpen knifes for the Rapture, but for 5-10 US dollars, the knife guy does it better.