Mom's Paring Knife

My mom used to regularly say "I couldn't live without my sharp knife". She had a little paring knife with a dark gray blade and an oval wood handle. It was almost as sharp as a razor and never needed sharpening. All my life I watched as she peeled vegetables and fruit, an expert at it. Her peelings were so thin you could almost see through them. She could peel a pound of potatoes in minutes, flicking the eyes out with a quick twist. Or an apple in a minute. She would share slices of whatever she sliced and that's how I came to know how good raw cabbage, rutabaga, and celery hearts are.

She didn't really want anyone else to use it. It was so sharp it was almost scary, and I'm sure she was afraid we'd mistreat it at some point (kind of like the time my son used my sewing shears to cut a wire, they were never the same after that). I could never attain her skill with a knife. Mine was nowhere as sharp as hers. I wanted that knife someday, but it disappeared after she got dementia.

I bought a similar one on eBay, finally, after months of searching and researching. Seems others know their value, because I bid against 7 others to get it. Turns out it was a carbon steel blade and I believe that is the secret. It will bloom with rust if not dried after use, but is always very sharp. I keep mine on my windowsill over the sink, because I want to know where it is all the time.