“Shall we have some Champagne? Yes, I’ll open a bottle.” Jean-Christophe Novelli has just swept through his chef academy; his accent and charisma enough to kill any suggestion it may not be wise to indulge quite so much before a masterclass with the world’s sharpest knives.
A moment after we have all sat down he begins to confer on us his great artistry, and the exquisite fineness of these knives. An onion is dispatched with startling speed to be used in a novel take on Christmas gravy; he includes both cocoa powder and vanilla.
Jean-Christophe Novelli believes the knives, which he designed in conjunction with Ziganof, are the only knives anyone needs to express themselves in the kitchen. The Japanese cleaver, paring and carving knives offer all the versatility you need.
Soon after he grabs a carrot, and after what look like a selection of random incisions, he presents a perfect orange flower. With this demonstration of what is possible it is our turn. We make our way to our chopping boards, it feels like an old episode of the Generation Game; I expect Bruce Forsyth to burst out at any moment – he doesn’t.
At this point I should admit I was expecting to be underwhelmed with the knives. As a keen cook I have good quality knives which I keep as sharp as I can, I didn’t think these could be that much sharper; I was wrong. They are, in fact, extraordinary, the blade is perfectly balanced, incredibly flexible and as soon as you start to slice, terrifyingly sharp.
Made with Damascus steel, a technique developed in the Middle East but perfected in Japan for use in the famously sharp Samurai swords, the knives combine ferocious sharpness with flexibility.
The technique, which sees malleable steel folded over a harder, brittle core, produces impeccably sharp knives. The Japanese cleaver has a core of TG10 steel, the hardest possible, with 66 layers of steel folded over the top. It is proof that excellent craftsmanship is, in itself, an art.
Classes at the academy are as diverse as French and West African cooking. Any fears over the authenticity of what you are learning are immediately dispelled after talking to the teachers. I asked Felice, the Italian tutor, what he’d do with polenta and was given a recipe from his youth in Italy, “Cook a mountain of polenta and put one sausage in the middle, whoever can eat their way to the middle gets the sausage – that one sausage can last for weeks”.
Presented in an attractive box these knives, which are made to last a lifetime and more would make an excellent addition to even the most well-stocked kitchen.
