Japanese Bladesmiths

Keywords:	Kitchenware ¦ Japan ¦ Traditional ¦ Spectacular ¦ Behind the scenes ¦ Cookware Porn ¦ Industrial Visit ¦ Reportage
Translations:	Español
Feedback:	98 comments - leave yours!

Japanese kitchen knives cost more than a camera, they can't be washed in a machine, are subject to rusting and boy, they are so sharp that if you slip you'll lose a finger or two before you can say banzai. There is no doubt that these are the best knives in the world. Nothing comes close to them in terms of sharpness. With one of these knives, you could slice fish so thin you could read a whole chapter of La Physiologie du Goût through the slices. Earlier this month, I had the chance to see how knives are made in Japan like they have been for the last 200 years, following Mr Bjorn Heiberg from Chroma, a company that sells these legendary knives.

After a short ride on a commuter train from Osaka, we arrive in Sakai, the town where most Japanese knives are made. The smiths of yore made Samurai swords but with less samurais around, that market has dwindled over the years and now most of the production is sold to professional chefs. The city's main sight is the largest tomb in the world, a huge keyhole-shaped tumulus island where Emperor Nintoku lays buried.

I follow Mr Heiberg through the maze of small streets until he stops in front of a small two storied residential home. I think it's here, he says, before knocking and speaking in fluent Japanese with a man in blue overalls.

I. Forging

He ushers us into a narrow corridor, and we find our way into Mr. EBUCHI KOUHEI's workshop, at the back of his house. Mr Ebuchi is a third-generation bladesmith and he works out of a minuscule forge with his younger brother.

Mr Ebuchi works from a coal-fired furnace heated to around 2000 C° where he inserts steel rods ...

Two pieces of steel will now be forged into a knife. A piece of hard steel will provide the razor-sharp edge Sakai's knives are famous for, and a piece of soft ferrite, containing more carbon, will prevent the knife from breaking. A combination not unlike reinforced concrete, where the concrete provides resistance to compression while the iron grid prevents the material from breaking when pulled. That's the secret of a successful marriage - both parties should bring something to the table.

The double steel rod is now inserted into a mechanical hammer and bang, bang, bang, the square rod gradually flattens into a blade.

Using one of the many knife patterns hanging on the wall, Master Ebuchi will proceed to cut ...

... and shape the steel, heated to about 800°C into a knife of the proper dimensions and shape.

Back to the hammer, now vertically

Most kitchen knives today are stamped out of large sheets of metal. They are never as sharp as those made in Sakai. Master Ebuchi has been forging knives for the past 40 years, but he still breaks one knife for each three he tries to make. This is delicate work.

We leave and start again walking in the labyrinthine streets of Sakai. The neighborhood looks just as any Japanese town, with their small two-storied fully-detached houses and the forest of eletrical wires. If I was not a guest of the Japanese I'd venture to say that one could wonder how a nation of such good taste never managed to bury their cables.

II. Sharpening

Meet Mr. FUJII KEIICHI, master of sharpening and best smile in the industry. To enter his workshop, you need to go through Mr Keiichi's living room and kitchen. For the people who makes knives in Sakai live and work in their house, much like artisans and shopkeepers did in Europe only two generations ago. There is much poetry is seeing this man who carries on the work of their fathers, and grandfathers from his own home. His work is his life. There is no alienation here. The promise our society makes to young people that they can define who they are by choosing their work is vapid babble for most. How many of us become who they are through their work? Precious few. Most just sell their time to their employer and start living come 5 PM. But these craftsmen who never really chose their trade, seem to be really free men to me, unencumbered from those false promises, they could become who they are through their work. Certainly, the prospect of living in the front of a dusty workshop would not appeal to all, but to me these are free men who have a much better lot than many who work in offices in disheartening jobs.

Mr Keiichi works with his assistant using huge grind wheels, where day in, day out, they make some of the sharpest knives in the world from the flat steel shapes they received from the bladesmithes.

Grind, grind and grain again on the blade ...

... then on the spine ...

... a quick sanding on the sides so that paper-thin food will not stick to the blade ...

... then hone to blade some more. Have you noticed the fine lines no the upper side of the blade? These microscopic groves, called metoshi, help prevent the knife from rusting. Hell, these are not stainless steel knives from Ikea, but a shorter version of a Samurai sword, which still need to be coated with a drop of camelia oil from time to time to prevent any rust at all.

... and the man's work is now completed ...

... and the knives wrapped in paper and stacked by types in bundles of 10.

At 400 Euros a knife, what would be the worth a thief's haul should this box fall off the truck?

Mr Keiichi shows me how to find his knife in a handle, but explains that this is not his job. I have enough to do with sharpening, he says. And my guide concludes with a Mochi-wa, mochi-ya (●餅は餅屋), or If you want rice cakes, go to the rice cake maker. They both laugh and we move on to meet the handleman.

III. Hafting

With the knive blades know finished, we need to get a firm handle on this things. We walk some more across Sakai and enter the workshop of TATSUMI MASARU, master handlemaker.

Mr Masaru makes knife handles from Magnolia Hypoleuca (Whitebark Magnolia), a fine and expensive wood called honoki in Japanese. His timber merchant cuts the centenary tree trunks into smaller logs ready to shape into handle knives. Let's see how.

Entering Mr Masaru's workshop is like stepping into a Japanese print or a Samurai movie. Were it not for the electricity, you'd think this was Edo time. The craftsmen are all absorbed in their work, not one word is spoken. They move with a that sense of purpose you find in gestures that have been repeated every day for the last couple hundred years.

A man feeds a machine older than his father with the little pieces of Magnolia, and a the machine sprays a geyser of wood shavings in a huge pile, contrasting with the timeless order of the scene.

The now roughly circular wooden handles are ground down to a smooth circular surface ...

... then handed to a man who works kneeling Japanese-style with his shoes off, to drill a little hole inside.

We step outside where Mr Masaru shows me how the bolster, that ring between blade and handle is made, using a buffalo horn. We only use about an inch of the horn for our knive handles, says Masaru, the rest is used to make combs.

A horn ring is boiled in hot water ...

... then the knive is inserted into the horn ring for a perfect fit.

Finally another man sands the completed handle to ensure an even surface on both the wood and the bolster. When you pass your fingers on the handle of such knives, you can't even feel the crevice between bolster and handle.

The completed handles wait ...

... until Mr Masaru can heat the knive's tang until red hot, then inserts it into one of his handles. A pipe blows fresh air onto the handle so that he may continue his work without being smoked out of his own workshop. He then bangs on the handle with a wooden mallet, carefully listening to the sound to see how far the tang has gone up the handle. Too far and it will split.

IV. Engraving

The last stop in the crafting of these fine knives is HARADA TAKAYUKI's shop, the master engraver. He was not in town but we could have a look at his shop, a luminous room in downtown Sakai.

Knives are placed one by one on a little anvil and the craftsman engraves them with the Haiku logo - a falcon - or the chef's name.

They can engrave a fair amount of text, all by hand, such as on this knive with a whole chapter from a book of philosophy.

Chroma Cutlery
http://www.chroma-cutlery.com
These knives are sold as the Haiku traditional Japanese knives by Chroma Cutlery Inc.
I love Chroma's Porsche knives which you see often in my articles, although they are not made in Japan.
They don't sell directly to individuals but you can buy these knives in various online and regular shops such as www.kochmesser.de in Germany. At 400 Euros a pop, these are not disposable knives but serious professional tools. Only about 250 are sold a year by Chroma. I have two of those and am very happy with them. I'll show you how they work in a later article!

A reader pointed that you can buy some "Chroma Haiku" knives on Amazon for only 99$. I asked Bjorn Heiberg of Chroma Cutlery if these were the same knives: The standard Haiku knives you sent a link to are stainless steel. Those are from Seiki City (Gifu prefecture) not forged.. They are stamped in the shape and of a stain-resistant steel.. Great knives, light and sharp, and easy to maintain, but the sharpness is not to be compared to the incredible edge you can put on a handforged Haiku Pro or handforged Haiku Itamae knife from Sakai.

Life is too short for cheap knives.