“Entertainment” is a loose term. Some find golf entertaining. Others, crochet. As for myself, I like watching people use knives.
Knives have fascinated me since Cub Scouts. They’re mini-swords, and all boys love swords. Just watch them cast longing glances as they walk by Excalibur Cutlery & Gifts in the mall. Men, nod appropriately.
But I’m a practical guy. I don’t need a sword. And ever since stupid Sept. 11, 2001, my pocket knife is more burden than boon. But kitchen knives … those I can use.
Chefs are the modern samurai. Why is Benihana so successful? It’s not the food. The kitchen is the only place where skill and artistry with a blade are functionally linked. The razzle dazzle is nice, but when it’s doing something practical, that’s a two-for you can take to the bank.
Still, why pay for fancy chop-sockey when you can see it free on television? Martin Yan of “Yan Can Cook” has always been a favorite of mine. He doesn’t twirl his knives around like pinwheels, but the man chops like there’s no tomorrow. He’ll shave down an onion in, like, six seconds and proudly proclaim, “done!” like a human microwave bell.
I find the chopping particularly entrancing. It’s a resonant experience. I chop onions, but at a pace that ensures the continued use of my fingers. Not that I’ve never suffered the consequence of a regrettable “hiya!” Yan always ends his shows by saying, “If Yan can, you can.”
I can not.
Yan’s wit is as sharp as his blade. Screw that geriatric Emeril. (Who puts a band on a cooking show?) Yan gets excited about cooking. As he slices and stirs he constantly urges “look at dis” and occasionally illustrates the tradition behind his dishes. His Chinese accent is endearing in a way that doesn’t make me feel racist.
But Yan is getting a run for his money from Chef Tony, the man wielding the Miracle Blade III on every channel under the sun. This man, who seemingly popped right off a can of Chef Boyardee, is a marketing god. I’ve watched this infomercial more times than “The American President” because I just can’t turn away.
Tony doesn’t feel as friendly as Yan because, after all, he is trying to sell you something. But his refined performance paralyzes the senses like voodoo magic. “I’ll just watch for a minute,” you say, and before you know it, half an hour is gone.
Many people are biased against infomercials, but because this is about knives and not cooking, all Tony has to do is cut things. It’s the low-budget porn of the cooking world. Vegetables, shoes and soda cans are laid to waste with his serrated edge and brushed down a mysterious hole which, as far as I can tell, has no bottom.
I do pause in this melee to mourn the wasted food, but the man’s gotta cut something. And honestly, I don’t care if he can cleave some Converse; I’m only going to be cutting food and occasionally my fingers.
As you can probably tell, I’ve been dangerously close to ordering these knives. If it weren’t for a vague taboo surrounding television purchases, they would probably be on my countertop next to a bag of ripe tomatoes, ready for the slaughter.
But as things stand, I’ll probably keep my non-miraculous knives until they’re as dull as kindergarten scissors, watch the pros from afar and make grubby fingerprints on all the glass cases at Excalibur.
Contact the Pulse columnist at [email protected]. His views do not necessarily represent those of the Emerald.