On Watching Someone Use a Knife
Being a kid is weird. Everyone always tells you what to do and, more importantly, what not to do. “Don’t touch that pan, it’s hot.” “Don’t try to German Suplex your dad, it’s dangerous.” “Don’t pet that, it’s not a dog, it’s a coyote and it’s foaming at the mouth.” It’s annoying. But then, one day, you’re thirty and you have 100% lost that youthful feeling of immortality. You stretch before you work out so you don’t pull a glute. You floss so you don’t get yelled at by the person who stabs your gums and then gets mad at you when they bleed. And last but not least, you have a mild panic attack anytime you see someone using a knife without perfect technique.
I think I get this anxiety from my mom, because she’s the one who taught me how to properly use a knife. Try a rocking motion instead of attacking the food like you’re using a cleaver in a horror movie. Use your knuckles to keep from chopping off your fingertips. Keep the knife sharp because a dull knife is a dangerous knife. I’m pretty sure I took a few years off my mom’s life while she watched me try to master these moves without turning out kitchen into a blood-red Jackson Pollock.
Now, as a grownup, I’ve inherited that same fingernail-chomping, hair-greying, life-shortening anxiety while watching others use a knife. My poor girlfriend, who has never (at least as far as I know [and I’m knocking on wood as I type this next part]) cut herself while chopping, has had to endure months, if not years, of me silently sweating and worrying while watching her cut veggies.
And who am I to judge anyone?! I’ve broken several bones, endured countless concussions, and subjected myself to a myriad of random and weird injuries that would make Evel Knievel say, “that boy otta be more careful. Now where’s my jumbo bottle of elephant-strength pain killers?” It’s not like I’ve been perfect in the kitchen either! I’ve nicked my hands, burned arms with oil splatters, singed my mouth with fresh pizza, and shut several of my fingers in several drawers!
But still, while watching the show Selena and Chef, (a delightful pandemic watch, she loves cooking but has no idea what she’s doing so, famous chefs teach her to cook over Zoom… it’s great) I couldn’t help but hold my breath and pour sweat while watching her spend a half-hour mere millimeters from chopping off a piece of her tiny little famous hands.
I wonder what it is about myself that makes me so anxious when seeing others use dangerous kitchen utensils… but lets me feel so calm when using them myself, despite all the evidence that I am dumber and clumsier than the general population! It might be unearned-male-confidence. It might be self-preservation through purposeful ignorance. It might be the last vestiges of my youthful feelings of immortality. Whatever it is, I’m sorry if we’re ever in the kitchen together and you catch me out of the corner of your eye holding my breath as you chop onions.
What about you? What makes you nervous when other people do it, despite feeling totally calm when you do it?
First off, the obvious answer... riding motorcycles. I'm in no danger whatsoever but no one else should ever do it. Second, at work, I have to wrap people's hands with adhesive tape that refuses to be cut by scissors and thus I am given the acute pleasure of watching their eyes nearly pop out of their heads when I pull out my pocket knife and make quick swiss cheese of their hand wraps. I, of course, throw in the "don't worry I've only cut a few people".
The reality of a severe finger cut and the effect on one’s life while it heals are traumatic at best. If you haven’t sliced your finger, you don’t know what a terrible pain it is so you can proceed without overdue caution! We, who have sliced the hell out of ourselves be it a knife or broken glass will continue to be brave and forge on hoping to avoid digit assault!