A Knife Won't Instantly Solve My Problem
Things are much more complicated than I sometimes think.
Do you sometimes stop in the middle of what you’re doing and think of how a particular thing—a new tool or a concept—can magically solve your problem, or at least make you better at something you’ve always sucked at?
I do, many times. Unsurprisingly, most of these thoughts have to do with my eating habits which, as you may have learned from this newsletter, are far from ideal.
It all began over a month ago when I was rushed to the emergency room of a nearby hospital due to an excruciating pain in my stomach. After countless tests and hours of pleading with the doctor to give me something “stronger” for the pain, I was diagnosed with a severe case of gastritis.
It was not my first time experiencing stomach issues of such kind, but the pain I had that night was the worst I had experienced so far. And it remains so. The memory of that ER trip is more than enough reason for me to not eat specific dishes, including those I never thought I could ever give up—like crispy pata. Thinking about the dish now instantly sends me back to that hospital bed over which the doctor and a couple of nurses hovered as they tried to figure out what the real problem was and why the pain wouldn’t go away.
So yes, I have been having delusions lately that making simple tweaks to my habits could make my problematic eating habits go away for good. Among them is getting a new knife, an idea I have been obsessing about in the past couple of months.
Well, I think nothing screams “I’m in control” louder than wielding a brand-new knife. Do you know what will make this seem even more legit? If the knife you’re holding is the Japanese type, preferably a hand-made gyuto from a well-known brand.
But I am also aware that a knife, no matter how “artisanal” or whatever, isn’t going to chop food by itself. Neither can it decide on its own to limit its casualties to fruits and veggies. At the end of the day, it will only cut whatever its owner brings in contact with it. Unless, of course, it gets dropped and accidentally cuts something it isn’t supposed to.
A new knife may inspire me to rekindle my passion for cooking and therefore increase my consumption of home-cooked meals, but it cannot guarantee that I’ll have better eating habits as a result.
Besides, a good knife is as fun to use in preparing unhealthy meals as it is on their healthier counterparts: Dicing my nth Spam for the week, butterflying chicken thighs to be soaked in a heavily-seasoned batter before getting deep-fried in lard, cutting ham into thin slices that will soon be stuffed in white bread slathered with whatever sinful sauce I’m in the mood for.
It can also be a great weapon for attacking a lechon, its tip easily puncturing the pig’s crispy skin and leading the rest of the blade as it quickly makes a flawless cut. Before I know it, the slab of my dreams is separated from the body of the animal, waiting to be thrown onto my plate and bathed in a criminal amount of Mang Tomas sarsa.
Unfortunately, eating habits are much more complicated than I sometimes realize. Changing them definitely requires more than just giving in to my urge to purchase an object, even if the object in question is a knife.