Zen and the Art of Knife Sharpening

I was thinking recently of how modern man has changed so much from his forbears. The sheer amount of "on" time we have to deal with is astounding. Information flows at hyperspeeds, work hours are longer and longer, and even home time is filled with kids "playdates" (a byproduct of the modern age if ever there was one), homework, chores, and other various and sundry things. If you think about it, there is just so little downtime that we have to think and reflect. I find my soul craves that stillness so badly. Literally the only time I have during the day is about 10 minutes in the morning, sitting with my coffee, looking out the window, and getting ready to hop in the shower and go to work. No one is up besides me, there are no sounds besides the bubbling of my aquarium, and I am alone with my thoughts. Kind of sad....

Given all this, people tend to find unusual ways to find this stillness. Some people fix their cars, others stare blindly at the television, and some.... sharpen knives.

I am a fairly serious home cook, and as is often the case, I have acquired many tools of the trade. There is nothing more important to a cook then a good set of knives. Until fairly recently, I was content with the usual spate of European knives - the Henckels, Wustofs, etc. Then a friend introduced me to the glory that is Japanese cutlery, and there was no looking back.

Given the extreme hardness (and accompanying brittleness) of good steel, one must maintain the edges of your knives with some sort of sharpening media, generally waterstones. Doing this sharpening freehand presents many challenges since you must maintain the proper angles of each part of the bevel, the correct amount of pressure, etc. As you become more practiced, the repetitive motion, feel, and sound of sharpening can become quite, well, soothing.

I find myself setting time aside every now and then to work my knives on the stones. That time, that concentration, has become golden. Other thoughts drift away, and it becomes just the motion of the knife against the stone. It didn't really strike me until recently how much I value this time. There is the added bonus, of course, of achieving something difficult - insanely sharp instruments that simply can't be matched by most techniques. That actual building of something, something done with the hands, is important, and something that a lot us simply don't have anymore.

A couple of days I headed to Korin in Manhattan, and had a chance to watch a true master sharpener at work (see picture above). His movements were so economical, so quick, so effortless and graceful, that it was fascinating to watch. Also on display was the Japanese penchant for making task-specific tools; knives specifically for cutting octopus, for slicing sushi, and dispatching fish. I couldn't resist adding another knife to my arsenal, in this case a yanagi that doesn't fit well in this picture due to its length.

Roasting coffee, brewing excellent tea, sharpening knives, whatever - we all need to find that place where we can take a moment to relax and ponder the imponderables.