Many Knives, Many Lives

Summary

Carmen Fong reflects on her multifaceted life and the various knives she uses in her roles as a cook, surgeon, artist, and writer, drawing parallels between her tools and her identity.

Abstract

Carmen Fong pens a personal essay titled "Many Knives, Many Lives," where she draws an analogy between the different knives she uses in her daily activities and the diverse aspects of her life. In the kitchen, she cherishes her Misen chef's knife for its ergonomic design and a handmade knife from her partner for its craftsmanship, while also relying on an old Kitchen Aid santoku knife for everyday use. As a surgeon, she favors the versatile #15 blade for its precision in various surgical tasks, though she acknowledges the shift towards electrocautery and heat-sealing devices in modern surgery. In her artistic endeavors, Fong utilizes an X-acto knife for its precision and a box cutter for its utility, among other tools. She also mentions her collection of pocket knives with orange handles. Notably, as a writer, she sees her role as one that does not require a physical knife, instead using her "razor sharp wit" and "laser-like tongue." Fong invites readers to explore more of her work through her Medium profile, LinkTree, and monthly newsletter, "Flying Penguins."

Opinions

Carmen Fong values the Misen chef's knife for its practicality and design, particularly appreciating the in-line handle and blade neck.
She holds a special affection for a handmade knife gifted by her partner, despite the meticulous care it requires post-use.
In her surgical practice, Fong has a clear preference for the #15 blade, noting its suitability for a variety of surgical cuts and dissections.
She expresses a dislike for the #11 blade, finding it too sharp and potentially dangerous in inexperienced hands.
Fong enjoys the utility of her X-acto knife in her art, highlighting its light handle and flexible tip for intricate work.
She maintains a collection of pocket knives, all with orange handles, suggesting a personal preference or practical reason for this choice.
As a writer, Fong takes pride in her intellectual prowess, contrasting it with the physical act of cutting and emphasizing the non-literal nature of her "cutting" in this role.

I wear many hats and wield many knives

While making dinner the other day, dicing red peppers, I realized that in my life, I use a lot of different knives. That gave me an idea for an article. I decided today that I would combine two objectives and make this my bio. After all, isn’t the knowledge of what knives I use everything you need to know about me?

Kitchen Knives. copyright Carmen Fong 2020

In the evenings, I love to chop vegetables. There’s something so meditative in doing it properly. The fine dice, the crosshatching of mincing, the heavy, crude chops for soup stock carrots, potatoes and onions. I love it. These days I wield a Misen, a surprisingly useful chef’s knife at a reasonable price. My favorite part of it is how the handle is molded to be in-line with the neck of the blade. No weird corner gunk to clean out, no stabby bits on the grip. It‘s nice. My other ride is a beautiful handmade knife that my partner got me for my birthday. The blade is hand-forged steel, the handle is a dark, oiled wood. It’s sharp and heavy and so nice to use. But it was so expensive (in my view, but it’s not like one of those $1000 knives) and I worry about it, so after each use I hand wash it and oil up the blade and the handle. I know that will make it last longer, but it also makes my prep work longer. For the every day, I use a really old Kitchen Aid santoku knife that has a pink breast cancer month handle. You know, this knife is probably ten years old and I throw it in the dishwasher and it’s fine. I’ve used a hand-sharpener to sharpen it once or twice.

Surgery Knives. copyright Carmen Fong 2020

By day, I do surgery on people. Adults, mostly. There’s the image that surgeons cut a lot, and we do, but I have to admit that a lot of our cutting these days is with electrocautery or heat-sealing devices. These make surgery go much faster because they coagulate and stop the bleeding as we go, as opposed to when we used to just slice something open and have to find every vessel and tie it off on the way. Still, for the cutting we do, my favorite blade is a #15 blade. It’s a small blade with a round belly, good for small skin incisions but can also be used to stab the skin (for a laparoscopic port site) or to quickly dissect out a vein from its bed of areolar tissue. Its cousin, the #11 blade, has a fine point like a tiny dagger that some surgeons prefer, but I find it too sharp for my taste. It can be used in a stabbing or sawing motion to open up an abscess. Because it’s longer, sometimes it can go too deep, especially in the hands of a novice trainee, something my anal sphincter isn’t cut out for. Lastly, their big aunt is the #10 blade, the old-school surgeon’s knife. Made for slicing from stem-to stern in two seconds flat; its wide belly divides skin, fat, muscle in one fell swoop if just the right amount of pressure is applied. While it is the ultimate surgical blade, we don’t use it nearly as much anymore. Surgeries utilize smaller and smaller incisions so that patients can have better outcomes and speedier recoveries. (I’m rarely allowed to take these out of the operating room. The examples above are disposable versions of the knives I use, which have steel handles.)

As an artist, I use my X-acto knife that has interchangeable blades. I love its light handle and the swivel joint, the flexible tip to cut fine curves in paper or tape or linocut plates. It’s one of the first things I bought myself as as artist; a good knife is indispensable in the studio. The other knive I use a lot is a box cutter. This is just plain handy around the house, of course, but its best quality is the snap off blade. Need a fresh blade? Snap off here! Though every since I was little I was terrified of it snapping off and flying into my eyeball. For some reason. I also use a paint knife, also called a palette knife, for oil painting and encaustic. The fabric cutter looks like a pizza cutter but, you know, cuts fabric.

Lastly, there is my trusty pocket knife. I have a lot of them. They all have orange handles.

As a writer, I don’t wield a knife. My razor sharp wit and my laser-like tongue hurl words around like they’re a bunch of little letters. I always think it’s funny that a person as soft as myself chose a profession as hard as surgery, that what I do is make people hurt to make them better. Maybe that’s why I like writing. It’s the one place where I don’t wield a knife. Is this the part where I say that a pen is mightier than a sword?

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