Have you ever had grilled prime rib? Neither had I, until my family and I were invited over for Easter dinner with friends last weekend. I’ll spare you the cooking details and try to save you from drooling down your shirts, but suffice to say that that rib was absolutely prime. And it very nearly got mangled by the unbelievably dull chef’s knife that my buddy tried to carve it with. Luckily your former editor was on hand, and although I don’t carry a pocket sharpening stone (I’m not that much of a knife guy) but I do know how to improvise. My friend’s knife (not shown above) was a Cutco chef’s knife. I know Cutcos have their fans and detractors, so I’ll just say that they ain’t my faves and leave it at that.
After the prime rib cooled on the cutting board for about 20 minutes, my host reached over to the oversized Cutco knife block and pulled out the piece de resistance, a large chef’s knife with the thickest blade I’ve ever seen this side of a camp hatchet. The ultra-thick blade had a deep hollow grind, which increases blade friction and is definitely not preferred for kitchen knives.
My buddy doesn’t know a hollow grind from ground beef, but he knew something was wrong when the knife simply would not cut through the crust of rock salt, charbroil and Old Bay spice. “Hmm…” he said. “This thing used to be really sharp…”
He knows I’m a knife guy, so he handed over the hardware for my perusal. I can’t say how sharp it ‘used to’ be, but this knife was duller than a well-used machete. It could possibly split a potato with a good enough chop, but it couldn’t cleanly slice a watermelon.
“I’ll fix this,” I said. “Where’s your sharpening stone?” Didn’t have one. “Where’s your sharpening steel?” Didn’t have one. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Should we have those?” Well, yes. But Easter dinner at a friend’s house isn’t the time to lecture somebody on how to maintain their tools. Instead of reaching into the Know-It-All Guest’s Bag Of Douchey Lectures, I reached into their cupboard and pulled out a glazed ceramic coffee mug.
My friends’ Winco-pattern coffee mugs have a pretty aggressive unglazed ceramic bottom, which I’d guess is a little rougher than the medium sticks on my Sharpmaker. Even so, it took several minutes to put a passable edge back on the Cutco Chef’s Spatula.
After I’d put a wire edge on each side, I pulled out my field strop (yes, I usually wear one and it’s called a belt) and deburred the Cutco to a hair-shaving edge. Our friends and the other guests had apparently never seen someone sharpen a knife without tools before, and they stood around and watched me as though I were juggling burning chainsaws.
While my host carved the roast, I sharpened the rest of the (few) non-serrated Cutcos in the knife block. Cutcos tend to lose their fine edges fairly quickly, but my friend’s knives will at least cut like the devil until they do.
The grilled prime rib was efficiently processed into perfectly neat slices, and I’m happy to say I ate like a starving man. Our friends are good cooks and wonderful hosts, and I’d like to think I actually earned my supper this time.