Craftsman Knives & Razors. Handmade. With No Compromise.
My Knifes May Not Be Right For You
I had a discussion with a friend of mine recently in which it ended with me saying, “My knives may not be right for you.”
I know what you're thinking. “That's just crazy talk! Who in their right mind would say that a product they make is not for everyone?”
Well kiddos guess what? That is exactly what I'm saying. My knives are not made for everyone, and they may not even be the right knives for you.
Let me put together an analogy that helps to better explain it.
I remember the first time I got to drive a Ferrari. It was a beautiful 348 convertible. I sat inside it, letting the leather seats wrap themselves around me. Cuddling me actually. Then I noticed that there was no air conditioner. The dashboard dials looked stark, designed for function not so much beauty. Then I nearly pulled a hammy trying to get it out of the parking lot. No power steering. And tires almost a foot wide. This thing was a complete horror for me to drive. I hated it. I wanted power steering. I wanted cool gizmos on the dashboard. And for the love of god I wanted air-conditioning!
I spent my life dreaming about driving a Ferrari. And in a moment, sitting at a red light in a puddle of my own sweat, afraid of having to make the left-hand turn I was sitting at for fear that I might pass out in the process, I realize that all this time I had been dreaming of the wrong car. Turns out, a three-quarter ton four-wheel drive diesel truck is the right vehicle for me. It has power steering. I can haul shit. The air conditioner blows ice cubes!
You may believe you want a supercar. They are sleek and sexy and their performance is unmatched. My knives fit that bill perfectly. But a supercar is not practical for a busy mom. The first time you have to put new tires on it will make that very clear. A supercar requires a great deal more of attention to its maintenance. It will have a hell of a time getting up and down that sloped driveway. Good luck taking it on a family of four vacation. A supercar is simply not practical for the day to day operation of normal commuting and grocery getting.
And for many people it is the same way with my knives. They are built for performance. One of my blades can literally shave off the steel of the factory produced store-bought blade. My knives perform to a higher standard. They are sharper. They stay sharper longer. They do the job of cutting better. But there is a cost. Much like the supercar, the level of maintenance and care for my knives is greater than the factory popped store-bought stainless steel that so many of us have grown perfectly accustomed to. You can't throw any of my knives in a dishwasher. Ever. You can't leave them in the sink to soak overnight. You can't just toss it in the cutlery drawer with all the other knives. Mine will dull them as their edge runs against the harder steel of my blades.
As I was discussing with my friend the different particulars of my blades, he looked at me and said, “But I could just go to Wal-Mart and pick one up tonight and cut my vegetable just fine. Why wait three weeks for one of yours? And then I can't even put it in the dishwasher?!”
No sir, you cannot.
And with your Wal-Mart blade, you also cannot cut rice paper thin wafers of tomato 10,000 times after cutting potatoes and steak and a couple coconuts for good measure without needing to sharpen it once. That Wal-Mart blade will never perform like one of mine. And for many people that's just fine. They have no need for a Lamborghini or Ferrari and if they were given one would soon find themselves quite unhappy with it. But you'll never do 200 miles an hour in a stock three-quarter ton, four-wheel drive diesel truck.
I make knives for those who demand the absolute best in performance from their steel. Who want the handle to be custom fit for their hands. For them, 200 miles an hour is cruising speed. They understand the costs and time in maintenance and care. They know that they're getting a Lamborghini, and what all of that entails.
Turns out, my knives may not be for you. And that's quite okay. I want my customers to be 100% happy. I want them to love the steel that I make for them. I want them to cherish and have pride in the blades that I craft. Because I do. Every single one. Craftsman are like that, and my craftsmanship demands it.
John M. Glueck