The worktop is bathed in warm light, in the background «The First Cut Is the Deepest» plays in Rod Stewart’s voice. In the middle stands a precious, lacquered case. Aloof, gleaming, irresistibly alluring. I breathe in deeply and lift the lid. Without hesitation, I raise with both hands the tool this case has protected for so many years – 13, to be precise. Strange: why has no one wanted to own you until now?
640 Layers of Steel
You’re lighter than you look – just 200 grams. With my right hand I close around your black, cold handle; I dare not picture what would happen if you slipped from my grasp now. I stay calm, turning you gently in every direction, the light playing on your unmistakable pattern, which exists only because your 18 centimetres were forged from Damascus steel. And that in 640 layers.
For months, master smith Lars Scheidler worked on you. Layer upon layer, tirelessly, precisely, devotedly. I dare not touch your edge with my fingers; instead I stroke gently along your spine, checking whether you are ready, whether I may guide you through the preparation. But really, you need no help – you know exactly where you’re going.
A Considered Act
I push the case aside to give you room; I feel that you’ve found your balance in my hand, I nod with satisfaction – you are ready, it shows. How great will the wound be that you inflict with just 0.8 microns, sharpened on both sides – a hair is ten times thicker? I refuse to think about it. Now, alone with myself, I focus.
Carefully, almost reverently, I push the subject into the right position; it deserves respect, it had a life, it grew only for me. The handle in my hand has grown warm, the 5,000-year-old bog oak comes back to life, almost a symbiosis. The 25 diamonds on the platinum bolster and the solitaire on the front dazzle me for a moment; one could have done without so much bling, you are a jewel already. But so be it. I am ready. I breathe in deeply, send a wish to the universe that my victim, laid out on the worktop, may pass painlessly. And so, in silence, with a single cut, I sever the peeled onion.
Nesmuk’s knife of the century costs 90,000 francs. Some dreams come at a price – and one of them sometimes ends on a perfectly sliced onion.
This article appeared in MEN issue 1/23 (June 2023).
