The real story of a sharpened object (seriously)

Today it finally happened. An endless tradition for every chef since the first potato was sliced and thrown in boiling water. No, that’s ‘factually incorrect’ like a girl once told me before storming out of the room. […] for every human since the hunting of antelopes and gazelles over 1.8 millions years ago. A ritual that every person has to go through at least once in his life. After three and a half months of careful, judicious actions, I finally happened:

I cut myself with my Chef’s knife.
The next day, I cut myself with my pairing knife. 

I’m now officially injured. Rendering me partially useless for a couple of days (at least with my left hand). 

I blame distractions, curves, and waking up late to hastily cook breakfast for a special guest.

Tale as old as time. You buy new knives, you’ll get cut eventually. It always happens. The only way to avoid it is never picking up one and using it for your whole life. That’s practically impossible. In any case, never using one will make you incredibly inexperienced and inept when handling a knife, increasing the chances of cutting yourself. You see? It’s a vicious inescapable cycle. 

My theory, as dumb as it sounds, is that the knife NEEDS to taste the blood of its wielder at least once for you to claim ownership of it and be able to fully unlock its potential. Yea, that’s what’s on my head most of the time: My offering to the blade gods is my own flesh and blood.  If I go through it, they’ll respect me as their true owner. A blood pact, literally, between an inanimate man-made object and a human being with moronic thoughts like this one.

BUT, is not all for naught.
I’ll finish this post with some factual and genuinely helpful information:

A dull knife is actually more dangerous than a sharp one because a dull knife requires more pressure to cut, increasing the chance that the knife will slip and cut you with even more impact. Not only that, you’ll get wider injury because of the blunt force of the object.

Always sharpen your knives and keep them out of the sink.
Always bend your finger while cutting.
Always cut in half first (or aim for a flat stable surface)

And lastly, NEVER raise your arms while handling a knife. It never leaves the counter space. Avoid impaling your loved one when surprising you with a kiss from behind or your little brats running around the house with complete disregard to personal space or objects. 

*Full disclosure:

I know my way around the kitchen. Knives are an integral part of it. Because of that, I gifted myself a set of Japanese Damascus Steel Knives (not bragging, at all). They were a small investment that will last at least a couple of years. That being said. I treat them with the utmost respect. Always sharpened, polished and safely-stored. Never wet, thrown in the sink or left dirty on the countertop. I worship them, adore them, and can truly declare they bring me happiness every time I have them in my hands. Hell, every time I even look at the prepping station, they’re there in all their glory. Just waiting for me to slice some veggies, pierce through some meat or satisfy their bloodlust; because they know it’s just a matter of time before I distract myself and do something stupid (yet again).

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