Razor Sharp Precision

Following my last post a friend joked with me about the status that people sometimes place on their foodie tools, specifically, kitchen knives. You know what I mean. I'm talking about the obsessive foodie way that items are described with a loving specification and attention to brand and price that you realize that what they really want people to know that they just want you to know that their stuff is probably better than your second-rate el cheapo tool. That's right, nothing short of the finest will do for these folks, and oh, did they mention that money is no object, as long as they can pay enough to let people know that oh dear, this fine tool cost much more than that.

Yeah. You know what I mean and I'm sure we all do it now and then. But some people really get their thrills discussing their excellent taste. So it was two weeks back when I went to dinner with a friend of mine at her friends' house. The hosts are nice people, they are generous with their food and better, yet, their liquor. But also in attendance was one of the host's oldest friends, who, along with host #1 fancies himself quite a bon vivant. This man, who I'll call Frick, suddenly began talking to the host, Frack, about his need for a new fillet knife. Thus began their talk about how German knives are certainly the best. Wusthof? Oh no, I prefer Henkel. Oh, yes, Henkel makes a fine product too. Oh, I might buy one here. Yes? I'd also recommend looking there.

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Keep in mind that this discussion was for a knife used to slice fish apart, something that most folks don't need to do with great regularity if they don't process salmon for a living. I wanted to suggest that purchasing a decent boning knife for about $20 the fellow would have a tool that could fillet fish as well as do a fine job with roasts, ribs, legs of lamb or pork and other butchering tasks. Oh well. Where's the status in that?

By the way, this conversation took place over dinner, as I mentioned earlier. The meal was jambalaya. Frack had made his first ever batch. It was indeed tasty, but Frack was not about to let us eat without explaining how he'd compared many recipes before settling on what he considered a fine and authentic version of that cajun classic. I had to roll my eyes on two points: First, for a recipe with shrimp, chicken and sausage, he used sweet and hot Italian sausage rather than andouille sausage, which seems a heck of a lot more "authentic" than the much milder Italian sausage. But, there are myriad jambalaya recipes and all sorts of meats can be used. Same with spices. Which brings me to the other point: While explaining his recipe vetting Frack several times explained that he rejected immediately a recipe that called for "cajun spices". That sounded too pedestrian. His solution was a hodgepodge of spices including paprika, thyme, and some cayanne pepper. Interesting mix, but I couldn't help but recall what a Luisianian friend of mine always mentions as one of the standard ingredients used by her 100% cajun mother: Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning, available in stores everywhere.