(inside an Episcopal church on Kauai)

I’ve been doing a lot of research lately into knives–the kitchen sort mind you–and my conclusion is that people are obsessive. I mean, obsessive. My current repertoire of kitchen knives include: one cheap santoku from crate & barrel which I got because it has a sheath and thus can be carried to various cooking events, one cheap Asian chef’s knife that is moderately sharp but about as stable as string cheese, and two or three paring/petty knives that are quite sharp and reliable enough.

Now, when we did wedding registry, I was shocked by a) how many knives were out there and b) how f’ing expensive they were. I picked some mid-range set from Calphalon, think that would be that. No one got us the set, and now I’m very glad no one bothered. I’ve since sat down to do some research, and a few conclusions came about that were quite surprising.

First was that I didn’t need the set. The only new instruments we need are: a decent set of steak knives, new kitchen shears (our old ones will not cut through a plastic bag), and a chef’s knife. Thus, no need for a set of weird 5″ knives we’ll never use. Scrapping the set, I then went upon the task of deciding what chef’s knife to get. I found a dizzying array of choices. I felt like an addict slipping into the dark corners–in this case of the internet–at shady knife stores and second-rate Asian market stores. I’ve now settled on two choices: a beautiful knife from New West Knifeworks and another nice one from MAC.

I almost went for the New West Knifeworks one (the 8″ Fusionwood chef, seen here . I even managed to exchange emails with the owner of the company. Ultimately, however, I think I am going with the MAC. It came down to two things: price and experience. The price point difference was not huge ($30), but the experience point is something to give pause. When googling New West Knifeworks or otherwise finding reviews, I could not find many reviews that weren’t from people who had received free knives to review! That sort of defeats the purpose of the unbiased review, whereas MAC had a small but devoted (and unbiased) following.

Who knows, perhaps New West will send me a knife some day to challenge the MAC, but until then, let me tell you this: people are really, really obsessed about their cutlery, how their knives are sharpened, honed, re-edged, and generally treated. I’ve practically had to learn Japanese and metallurgy to sort out all the nuttiness. If you take this amount of intense, detail-oriented dedication to one aspect of cooking and apply it to all aspects of everything, I think you can start to get a road-map to internet insanity.

As we were hiking, we saw a sign warning about an invasive species called Miconia, which must be the Hawaiian version of kudzu. Alongside the warning signs, which included a brief “how to spot miconia” tutorial, was a steel brush for one’s feet. The idea was to brush your feet on your way out, thus eliminating the spread of miconia seeds or whatnot.

The poster, however, also warned of horses accidentally carrying the seed out. I not there was note a four-foot wide steel brush for one’s horse.

Question of the day: in a book Christina is reading written about the 50′s, characters are described as “looking at” the television, not “watching” the television.

Is this an accurate reflection of the language of the time, and if so, when did it switch over to “watch” from “look?”

Today, the Cooking Dangerously (c) crew took our cooking efforts to another level when we catered St. Bede’s yearly charity auction. Our core crew–Jamie, Brian, John, and myself–along with our pastry chefs–Nancy and Livy Stork–have been content to cook seven course meals for twenty people. We were asked, however, to cater to a hundred people and bring our same ‘oomph’ to this dinner.

The efforts began weeks ago with Planning Dangerously (c), our new attempts at planning more than a few days ahead of time. We decided on the menu. With a few additions, subtractions, and substitutions, the final menu was the following:

. . Sweet pea-mint puree and tomato crostini with cracked pepper
. . Asparagus soup with lemon zest crème fraiche
. . Bacon wrapped dates stuffed with parmesan
. . Arugula and fennel salad tossed with citrus vinaigrette topped with orange slices and candied walnuts
. . Mashed sweet potatoes and bananas with brown sugar and cream
. . Pea sprouts and garlic sautéed in butter
. . Tri-tip with a shallot, rosemary, pepper, and brandy sauce
. . Roasted portabello mushrooms in olive oil with a reduced port jus
. . Strawberries and whipped cream in a honey florentine basket topped with vanilla honey port syrup
. . Chocolate Mint, Orange Liqueur, Coconut, Hazelnut, and Scharffen Berger truffles

Looking at this mesmerizing list, I realize now the insanity which we performed without any major breakdowns, accidents, or horrible injuries (except when I tried to take a shot of boiling hot asparagus soup and had to cough up most of it, along with the burnt lining of my throat). I think everything went fairly well– the pea sprouts needed more salt, the port jus was a little light, and the random Hawaiian sweet rolls just did not fit. In terms of actual cooking, this was probably easier than our last Cooking Dangerously (c). According to John and Jamie, our ingredient list for this event (not quantity, but number of times) was half o the last Cooking Dangerously (c). There were not giblets, rabbits, or geese; nothing had to be anti-griddled; no pumpkins were harmed.

The sheer quantity of cooking was offset by numerous helpers from the congregation and eager waitstaff. The shortcomings of the St. Bede’s kitchen (crappy ovens, touchy stoves, loud noise, and lack of cookware/supplies) was fairly well masked by the reliance on large stockpots and preparation. The worst part, by far, was large-quantity preparation: peeling and mashing forty pounds of sweet potatoes, washing and cooking twenty-five bags of pea sprouts, shaping one hundred delicate honey florentines. Less than a hundred people actually attended, but my poor tong/mash arm probably doesn’t know the difference. Still, aided by a generous pace and sped up by the need to only plate the salad and dessert, we felt far less pressure than in previous events.

In the end, the event was a hit. We got a lot of compliments on the food–and not just one or two dishes but all of them. Reaching appetizer saturation, then feeding a large main course and dessert, then forcing truffles is a sign of delicious food. Perhaps we can draw more attention to our Cooking Dangerously (c) events, which we may need to rename to Cooking Insanely or perhaps, as Jamie suggested, Cooking Unwisely. Perhaps we’ll use this as a springboard into Catering Dangerously, or “Unwise Foodtruck.” Sadly, Jamie is leaving the crew for the Sunshine State. On the plus side, he must be taking about 5 gallons of manufacturing cream with him.