Knives Are Like Shoes; You Need Dozens of Them

I own more kitchen knives than anyone should. Dozens of them, in all shapes and sizes. There are knives mounted on my kitchen walls, stacked in drawers and stored in the pantry. I keep tabs on dozens of knife shops and makers around the world, and I collect them wherever I travel (normal tourists collect snow globes or tote bags). I have spent more on them then I will ever confess to my wife, and admit that I (may) have a problem.

I can justify some of it as R&D. I design Milk Street’s knives and am always looking for inspiration to create new, useful shapes. For example, Japan alone has more than 2,000 different kitchen knives, each designed for specific tasks (I only own a fraction of them. So far). I regularly use most of the knives, rotating through the stock to assess function, handle comfort, leverage, etc. Also, knives are like shoes: do you really want to wear the same pair every day? It’s nice to have a change of pace. (Speaking of which, may I interest you in a Kitchin-Tan? Or a Kitchin-kiji? Behold my babies.)

Beyond the inspirational “work” the collection does, I see knives as functional art. They can have beautiful lines, like an Eames molded chair or the timeless 356 Porsche, communicating motion, comfort or efficiency. Motorcycle designers speak of lightness of form: the capturing of grace and movement, which are qualities that I also see in knives. Like that Eames chair or Porsche, you want to put it to use to see how it functions.

Do your kitchen knives inspire joy? Do they give you confidence to tackle dinner? Nothing will improve your cooking better than a sharp knife that fits your needs. Not that I’m encouraging anyone to become the hoarder that I am, but it’s worth asking yourself a few questions:

What do you cook?
Does your cooking lean more vegetable or meat? What’s at the center of your plate? Vegetables are best prepared with light, thin knives that won’t wedge as they cut (get stuck because the blade is too thick or the bevels are too broad). Think the simple, featherweight Japanese vegetable cleaver (nakiri), which feels laser-guided in its ability to reduce onion, peppers, carrots or potatoes to a tidy geometric dice.

Meats are best cut with a long, slicing motion, not back and forth, as with a handsaw. Go long and thin for minimal surface tension during cuts—think sushi chefs and the sword-like knives they use for fish.

Fifty/fifty split on your plate? There’s the santoku, a Japanese knife designed for a bit of everything (santoku translates as “3 Virtues”—meat, fish and vegetables). It’s the most common knife in Japanese households (and remember, they’ve got a lot of choices).

How do you cut?
Do you prefer chopping up and down, slicing with a back and forth flow, or rock chopping? A blade’s edge profile largely determines how it functions in motion. Very straight, flat blades are designed for full board contact with a slicing motion. Curved blades, like the exaggerated Turkish zirh, is for rock chopping. The more pronounced the curve, the more it rolls smoothly back and forth.

Many blades, like nearly all our Milk Street knives, fall in between for multi-function use. They have a gently-arced tip that transitions to a flat blade for full contact through a finishing slice.

Got a grip?
Handles come in all shapes and sizes. If you can, try them out and see what works for you—there’s no such thing as one size fits all. I like the natural feel of larger and longer wood handles best, though own knives with all sorts of handles. Our Milk Street handles are slightly oversized and ergonomic to really fill out the palm for security.


What’s your budget?
You don’t have to blow all your discretionary income on knives! Broadly speaking, the more you spend on a knife, the higher quality the steel, handle material and finish work. But there are diminishing returns, unless you really see the art in them (like I do). I’ve got $15 knives that work on par with $800 knives.

What’s your maintenance plan?
Regardless of how much you spend on a knife, it’ll eventually need maintenance. You can go analog with an old-school sharpening stone that takes a bit of practice, or choose any number of devices with point-and-shoot ease. This is more of a lifestyle preference. A whetstone is more like learning to drive a stick shift, while an electric sharpener is an automatic. Both do the job. The ceramic water wheel is a nice in-between option, and easiest to store.

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Matthew Card

Matthew Card is Milk Street’s Creative Director for Recipes and Products, resident coffee geek, knife collector and equipment junkie. He has 25-plus years of professional cooking, recipe development, food writing and teaching under his belt. When he’s not in the Milk Street kitchen or on the road hunting for new recipes and ideas, Matthew lives with his family in Canberra, Australia, where he does his best to dodge kangaroos on his mountain bike and is learning to love Vegemite.