Father's Day Knives

knives in progress with, from the top, Ivory micarta, red patterned acrylic,Tiger myrtle, ancient New Zealand Kauri ,Tasmanian Blackwood and Birds eye Sydney Blue gum

Father's Day is only a month away, and I'm currently working on a few commissions, along with a couple of extra knives for those people who, like me, occasionally leave things until the last minute.

There's still plenty of time to organise something a little more personal than another pair of socks.

I come from a family of male cooks.

Dad did much of the cooking when I was growing up, which was probably a little unusual in London during the 1960s. He was in charge of the curries and other Sri Lankan favourites, while Mum looked after the schnitzels, Viennese cakes and biscuits (although she can cook a pretty mean curry too!).

Both my brothers cook as well. Pete has made a wonderful career of it, while Dave grows much of what ends up on his table.

Somewhere amongst all of that, I suppose, is where my own love of cooking began.

These days the situation is much the same in our house.

Vicki doesn't cook. She claims the main reason she married me was because I do.

After nearly forty years together, I think there might even be some truth in it.

Perhaps that's one of the reasons I enjoy making kitchen knives so much.

Every knife I build eventually ends up where I think knives belong.

Being used.

Not sitting in a display cabinet, but on a chopping board, helping prepare meals for family and friends.

The best knives don't just cut.

They become part of family life.

They prepare birthday dinners, Sunday roasts, Christmas lunches and quiet Tuesday night meals. Over time they gather tiny scratches and develop a character of their own, becoming part of the family's story.

That's really what I hope people are buying when they commission one of my knives.

Not simply a piece of steel and timber.

Something that will still be in use twenty or thirty years from now. A knife that might one day be passed on to a son or daughter, complete with all the memories that have accumulated along the way.

I don't make many knives each year, which means I can only take on a small number of commissions. That's exactly how I like it. Every knife is different, and every one has its own story.

If you're thinking about Father's Day this year, there is still time to organise a custom knife, or perhaps choose one of the few I'll have available before the day.

After all...

Some presents are opened on Father's Day.

The best ones are still being used long after the wrapping paper has been thrown away.