Opinel

The Knife Block — and a Pocket Full of Opinels

In my last post, I mentioned the knife block that sits on the counter holding some of the most used knives in the kitchen. Apart from the chefs knife that I use everyday, ( it’s one I made ) and Vickis favorite paring knife ( which I also made )there are quite a few of the wonderful French Opinel knives tucked into it.

They’ve been around since 1897, originally made as a series of twelve different sizes, and they’ve earned their place over that time. Simple, practical, and very easy to live with.

Most of mine are carbon steel, which means they take a really good edge and are easy to sharpen—something I value more and more the longer I cook.

They’re brilliant little knives.

In the kitchen, they get used for all the small jobs—cutting fruit, making sandwiches, opening packets, the sort of things you don’t always want to reach for a full-sized kitchen knife for. There’s usually a couple sitting in the block, ready to go.

But they don’t just live there.

There are Opinels in my fishing gear, in the back of the LandCruiser as part of our travelling kitchen, and always one or two when we’re away. They’re easy to carry, take up very little space, and I know that wherever we end up—whether it’s a campsite or an Airbnb—I’ve got a knife that will do the job properly.

That’s worth a lot.

The one I probably use the most is the No. 9. It just feels right in the hand and sits nicely in that space between small and useful.

But recently I picked up the garlic and chestnut knife, with its small curved blade—and the only way to describe it is that it made peeling garlic fun again.

That doesn’t happen often.

There’s something about tools like these. They’re not complicated, they’re not trying to be anything clever—they just work. And because of that, they end up being used more than you might expect.

You can never really have too many of them.

carbon steel Opiel

chestnut and garlic