James grew up on an Ozarks farm where tools like axes and picks were still used in the daily routine and the blades of stockman's pocketknives served their original functions. Receiving his first pocketknife at age four he got it open by himself nearly a year later and spent his formative years wandering the woods with a succession of ever larger knives, a book of matches and a rifle.
A veteran of Vietnam, James also served in Alaska during a stint in the Army, receiving his first intensive culinary training by setting a record for extra KP at Ft. Richardson.
Settling in the Pacific Northwest after his discharge, James crewed on sailing yachts in local races, backpacked hundreds of miles of mountain trails in search of good trout fishing, and occasionally attended college.
His first serious job as a civilian resulted from answering a Seattle Post Intelligencer want ad requesting someone who could lift 120 pounds repeatedly and wasn't afraid of fire. James apprenticed to John Frazier -- the most knowledgeable traditional foundryman in North America at that time -- for the next six years.
Returning to the Ozarks James made his living by growing ginseng on a hand-terraced wooded hillside and selling handmade wood turnery, furniture, sculpture and architectural carvings. James harvested trees from his own land, processing logs into posts and beams and turnery billets with saws, axes, froes and planes. Since many tools he needed were no longer available, James built his own forge from a barbeque grill, a vacuum cleaner and a 55 gallon steel drum, found a chunk of railroad track for his first anvil, and taught himself blacksmithing -- creating his own knives and tools from scrap steel and sweat.
Changing economic pressures eventually forced James back to the restaurant industry in Branson, Missouri, and later to even more success as a maintenance engineer for one of Branson's largest condominium resorts. Finally escaping to Indiana, James now makes his living telling true stories as a freelance writer.
Ginsu EverSharp Knife Block Set | Serrated Full Tang 8 Piece
58 sec read
I’m always skeptical when the knife gets reinvented — knives have been around a very long time, and fundamental changes to the design are usually bad ideas. The Ginsu, represented here by the 8 Piece Stainless Steel Block Set, is marginally different, a product more famous for its flamboyant marketing than its intrinsic value.
What you get sounds good for the price: seven knives and a pair of kitchen shears, plus a black-painted wooden knife block. The stainless steel handles are blocky and functional rather than stylish or ergonomic. Blades are stamped steel with serrated edges, which according to the company will never need sharpening.
The hardwood block is very lightweight, built for this set and nothing more — there are no empty spaces for even a couple of the other knives you are bound to already own. The EverSharp claim is bogus, since all knives will dull, some faster than others. Serrated blades that are sharp at first cut very well but leave a more ragged surface on some food; when they dull, they will still cut but with a sawing action rather than a slicing cut, and they will require more force.
Most companies which manufacture serrated blades offer refurbishing at the factory, often for the cost of shipping and with no charge for the service, since serrated blades can’t be sharpened with ordinary home equipment. Ginsu instead offers a lifetime warranty, with provisions for exchange of knives should they be unsatisfactory. There is a catch: at present, the exchange costs three dollars per knife.
James grew up on an Ozarks farm where tools like axes and picks were still used in the daily routine and the blades of stockman's pocketknives served their original functions. Receiving his first pocketknife at age four he got it open by himself nearly a year later and spent his formative years wandering the woods with a succession of ever larger knives, a book of matches and a rifle.
A veteran of Vietnam, James also served in Alaska during a stint in the Army, receiving his first intensive culinary training by setting a record for extra KP at Ft. Richardson.
Settling in the Pacific Northwest after his discharge, James crewed on sailing yachts in local races, backpacked hundreds of miles of mountain trails in search of good trout fishing, and occasionally attended college.
His first serious job as a civilian resulted from answering a Seattle Post Intelligencer want ad requesting someone who could lift 120 pounds repeatedly and wasn't afraid of fire. James apprenticed to John Frazier -- the most knowledgeable traditional foundryman in North America at that time -- for the next six years.
Returning to the Ozarks James made his living by growing ginseng on a hand-terraced wooded hillside and selling handmade wood turnery, furniture, sculpture and architectural carvings. James harvested trees from his own land, processing logs into posts and beams and turnery billets with saws, axes, froes and planes. Since many tools he needed were no longer available, James built his own forge from a barbeque grill, a vacuum cleaner and a 55 gallon steel drum, found a chunk of railroad track for his first anvil, and taught himself blacksmithing -- creating his own knives and tools from scrap steel and sweat.
Changing economic pressures eventually forced James back to the restaurant industry in Branson, Missouri, and later to even more success as a maintenance engineer for one of Branson's largest condominium resorts. Finally escaping to Indiana, James now makes his living telling true stories as a freelance writer.
The Diamond Edge Pro knife and scissors sharpener from Smith Abrasives combines electric and manual sharpening systems for quick and accurate refurbishing of knives...
I’m always skeptical when the knife gets reinvented — knives have been around a very long time, and fundamental changes to the design are usually bad ideas. The Ginsu, represented here by the 8 Piece Stainless Steel Block Set, is marginally different, a product more famous for its flamboyant marketing than its intrinsic value.
