Why I Love Chopping
Sunday, July 12th, 2009
When it came to cooking, I used to hate chopping.
That’s changed lately for several reasons. First off, our new kitchen’s got me out of the cramped pantry where I used to do such seemingly tedious prep work. Secondly, my mother-in-law gave be a great set of Chicago Cutlery knives so I’m no longer sawing at food with worn, dull blades. And lastly, we’ve had a recent addition to our kitchen.
Isn’t it awesome?
It’s a butcher block—a beefy chunk that, if it could speak, would surely say in a raw, meaty voice, “Call me Solly.”
Years ago, as we formulated our kitchen renovation plan, we knew we wanted some kind of island. We held off, however, until the cabinetry was in just to be sure there was enough room. Once we determined there was, we then began tossing around ideas of what the island should be (meaning what did I want my husband to build).
Then my sister showed us her kitchen. I. was. smitten. Okay, I even wanted to copy her. Isn’t that what sisters do?
As owners of Butterfi LLC, my sister and her partner mastermind and market delicious, fiber-enhanced dairy products. They do this from their California kitchen, assisted by a beautiful, old butcher block. If a butcher block would help me cook as good as they do, then I wanted one of them thar things too!
Start, then, my 12-month Ebay search for a used, preferably antique butcher block.
Let me tell you, they’re a bit pricey. At least, for me.
When one’s husband has a ready supply of both wood and talent, as does mine, it makes sense to weigh the cost-effectiveness of purchasing something or having it built. As a result, my specifications for a butcher block were pretty clear cut: functional, low enough cost and close enough locale.
Last week, Solly showed up only 80 miles south in Mundelein, Ill., just down the road from Krystyna’s Polish Deli, where my husband had to stop for blood sausage (gag).
Let me describe this lovely hunk of a butcher block: It’s legs are a stocky 3 1/2″ inches in diameter. The block is 30x24x14 inches. What’s most interesting is the block is constructed of end grain maple pieces dovetailed together.
It obviously had been used in a real butcher shop because, well, to put it mildly, there were telltale stains everywhere. The surface was also a bit spongy. But that’s why butcher blocks are made as thick as they are: for resurfacing. Which is exactly what my husband did (who, inconsequently, is built very much like Solly).
So, my husband spent a couple hours power sanding. And I spent another hour scrubbing and bleaching (I’m a little strange that way when it comes to things of questionable origin and upon which I plan to place my food).
Now we have this great, solid butcher block sitting in the middle of our kitchen. The size is perfect for the space. It’s handy for setting things on as we move about the work zone. And, as I love to tell my dinner guests, it’s perfect for chopping raw pork and chicken.
Just kidding…
Anyway, chopping has now become my favorite part of cooking.