Category Archives: equipment

Keeping your knives sharp

One of my greatest fears when someone asks me to cook with them is the prospect of blunt knives in their kitchen. I hate being asked to finely slice an onion or trim a piece of meat with a large dull-edged kitchen knife. Ugh. I believe I’ve once successfully nagged a friend into getting some decently sharp knives.

I grew up with my parents using regularly sharpened carbon steel knives. That’s a metal that rusts at the drop of a hat, but can be worked to a beautifully sharp edge. When I left home I bought some of the (at the time) popular Wiltshire Stay Sharp knives that had a scabbard in which you store the knife. As you removed the knife from the scabbard, a small sharpening groove would do a modest job of maintaining the edge of the knife. Nothing particularly impressive, but I wanted to believe my knives would be sharp.

Once you get to the point where you can own a few serious knives, the problem is how to keep them sharp. Few people really use the honing steel (that rod thing with a handle), and if they do, I think they generally believe it is truly sharpening their knife. The main purpose of a steel is to maintain the sharpness of a blade by evening out minor flaws in the edge that develop with use. A steel cannot rescue a blunt knife, or prevent the eventual blunting of a sharp knife.

After a while, any knife and becomes rough or just dull. Either way, this increases the risks of slipping when cutting and then injuring yourself. A knife needs to be sharp.

Sharpening can be done by hand on a whetstone, but is best left to the avid home-handymen cos it is, in my opinion, a total pain in the arse. There are handheld metal-bladed or ceramic-wheeled sharpeners which can do a moderately decent job if you faithfully sharpen the knives regularly.You could go the route of an electric sharpener, too, though these have had the reputation of stripping the metal off knives without a respectable result. And then there’s professional sharpening services, once provided by roaming “cutlers” and now usually available through cookware stores or culinary bookshops.

You’d think professional sharpening would be a sure bet, wouldn’t you? If you find a good service, stick to it! In my case the first choice I made, ten years ago, was London and American Stores in Melbourne, where my brand new knives were returned to me with radically changed bevels (blade angles) and coarse grinding marks. I like a fairly acute angle on my blades (because I prefer blades that smoothly thin into the cutting edge) and didn’t appreciate it being changed radically. (Note that I have no idea whether that store still uses the same sharpening service.) Understandably, I later used other services that did a much better job.

Professional knife sharpening costs money. I think the current price is typically $7-10 (please correct me if it has gone up) per knife. That quickly adds up if you are serious about maintaining your knives, even once a year!

I’ve been a bad boy about getting my knives sharpened during 2011 and when Kitchenware Direct kindly offered to let me review something, I thought this was the perfect opportunity to try out an oft-disparaged kitchen gadget. I had read some reviews online which were at least moderately enthusiastic about some models of electric knife sharpener, so I took the plunge.

I decided to take my least loved knife, a Füri utility knife, and submit it to the Machine, a Shun Kai Electric Knife Sharpener. Given that the knife had a very rough, hacked up blade, it was a pretty good choice. It took about 12 passes of the blade through the grinding wheels, but the outcome (unfortunately blurry picture below) was a respectably sharp, smooth edge, although with a modified bevel. Over the past few weeks I’ve gradually had the courage to sharpen the rest of my knives, finishing with my Global chef’s knife.

It would seem that using an electric sharpener is in some cases a viable compromise between the blunt-knived kitchen and the $$-draining regular professional sharpening. An important note is that blades that become thicker towards the handle, or have a handle that is the height of the blade, cannot be sharpened for their full length because the end closest to the handle can’t be pulled through the sharpening slot in the machine (see image below). This would cause longterm issues for usability of the knife, with the final 1-2cm becoming useless.

I’ve noticed that the knives don’t hold their edge for as long (that is, they feel less sharp more quickly), but this seems less of an issue if you have the tool to resharpen the knives waiting in your kitchen cupboard. I would guess it does mean that the knives will wear down more quickly, but I’m not sure how much of an issue that is in this short-term-perspective world. On the other hand, if you want your knives to last forty years, like my parents’ ones, then hand- or professional sharpening might be the better choice. Maybe I’ll get back to you in ten years’ time and tell you how my home-electric-sharpened knives are going.

This was a simple no-nonsense sharpener, but there are also fancier ones by some manufacturers, with multiple slots for different steps in the sharpening process (a bit like some of the handheld ceramic wheel models).

Whatever you do, remember that only sharp knives are good knives.

Mint ice-cream, and ice-cream machines

Have you ever met one of those people who looks ascance at you when you suggest having an ice-cream in winter? “But it’s 8 degrees and raining!” they exclaim. So bloody what? Ice-cream is can be the stuff that dreams are made of, so of courrrrrrrrrrse you should eat it all year round.

When I first visited Germany it was mid-winter and verrrrrrry blllloody ccccolllld. Didn’t stop me buying a Cornetto, but! (The shop owner almost did, as I learned abruptly that customers d o  n o t get to open the ice-cream cabinet for themselves.)

So here we are at the winter solstice (in the southern hemisphere). As I haven’t tried enough recipes from the ice-cream book I reviewed a few months back (Ice Creams, Sorbets and Gelati: The Definitive Guide), and because KitchenwareDirect were nice enough to send me a new ice-cream maker to try out when they saw that I’d lost the paddle for my old one, I decided to do a flavour that straddles ideas of cold and wishes for warmer weather: mint.

Mint in any dessert can range from sophisticated and warming to sickeningly sweet and cloying. Anybody who pairs milk chocolate with mint, for instance, probably deserves very painful punishment, especially if the mint is communicated through little flavoured pieces of candy in the chocolate. Blurk. Ick. Pfahhg.

A dark chocolate is the way to go, but I don’t think you need to prefer the darkest on the spectrum – a good dark chocolate in the 50-70% range is appropriate for most applications. If you use fresh or dried mint, things get especially interesting and complex. One of the most surprising macaron flavours I did last year for Café Liaison used dried peppermint in a dark chocolate ganache. In the ice-cream here, I used fresh common mint straight from the garden.

The machine I’m now using (on the left) is a Cuisinart Ice Cream, Yoghurt & Sorbet Maker, 2-litre capacity. It’s stylish stainless steel looks aren’t quite matched by performance, as I found a full 2-litre batch didn’t freeze well enough on a warm autumn day, but it did well for a 1-litre batch in winter. (And let’s face it, probably all ice-cream maker ice-cream still kicks store-bought ice-cream out of the water!)

The mint ice-cream from the abovementioned book combines a fairly standard French-style egg custard with some sprigs of mint. The mint steeps in the cooling custard for an extended period, after which the mint is squeezed and the custard strained, the cream added, and the mixture churned. The authors’ recipe for 800ml of ice-cream used four 10cm sprigs. I upped that to five and it could possibly have been taken further.

The Cuisinart uses a rotating frozen bowl with a fixed paddle, rather than a rotating paddle inserted in a frozen bowl (as in my older Krups model, also pictured). The Cuisinart design – now quite common in ice-cream machines – seems to make for a noisier experience. I wouldn’t have wanted to be stuck in the kitchen while it churned a full mixture! Alas, the quite clever paddle (you can see it directing the flow in, out and up) is an absolute bugger when it’s time to decant the ice-cream into a container – too much surface area picking up the fresh ice-cream as you withdraw the paddle from the container, and many angled and bumpy surfaces to try to get that ice-cream off. I also found that it didn’t scrape the sides and base effectively enough while churning, leaving a 2mm layer of hard-frozen butterfat and custard (and no hard spatula is supplied to scrape it off).


The outcome was a smooth, wonderfully delicate mint ice-cream, lacking any giveaway green tinge. I had intended serving it with a chocolate sauce, but it would have been overpowering. A dusting of powdered cocoa might have done the job instead!

The next mint escapade will be with peppermint (once I’ve grown some!).

Notes about choosing an ice-cream maker: how well a machine performs is impossible to tell just by looking at it. I strongly recommend reading reviews or asking among your friends – even fancy, expensive models with their own compressor aren’t always reliable. As long as you don’t expect to make ice-cream without forethought, the common and fairly affordable machines with bowls that need to be frozen for 24 hours before making the ice-cream are a good way to go, but I do recommend making less-than-maximum sized batches in order to reduce unhappy sloppies. It’s also advisable to chill the mixture in the fridge for many hours beforehand.

In the case of the Cuisinart, the customer reviews at KitchenwareDirect are strongly positive (aside from the machine noise), but I am less positive – it does the job, but could be better. Both my now-paddleless Krups model (GVS2: highly rated on Amazon Germany) and my Mum’s 1985 Phillip’s machine (still going strong) are more effective at cleaning the sides and slightly quieter, but as Krups appliances are no longer readily available in Australia… Sniff.

My thanks to Brad at KitchenwareDirect for providing me with a new ice-cream machine.

Kitchen scales redux

My kitchen scales battle showed no signs of a Duncan-win following my first article bemoaning the crappiness of many scales and the deterioration of my favourite model. The latter, my once-trusty IKEA model, now resets itself if I plonk anything onto it even moderately hard. Sigh.

In a sign that some companies are being a little more careful in how they approach bloggers, it was more than a relief to receive a commercial email that wasn’t trying to get me to PR-pimp pears or the latest bloody Vegemite to my “interested readers”. Instead, Brad at KitchenwareDirect (one of a number of online discounters in Australia) offered me the opportunity to try out a set of scales from Soehnle, a brand mentioned a few times by my readers. As he was also polite enough to make clear that he wasn’t suggesting a reviewing angle and accepted that I rarely mince my words about products, I accepted the offer of some scales to test.

To recap and update my kitchen scales testing criteria:

  • measure up to at least 3 kg, preferably more
  • measure as little as 2 gm
  • measure in increments of no larger than 1 gm
  • be zeroed/tared easily
  • measure reliably, without the figure creeping up or down, or the baseline changing
  • have no immovable/fixed lip or button at the same level as the weighing surface (too easy to rest a bowl on it and end up with a misleading reading)
  • have an easily readable display
  • have easily replaceable batteries
  • have no grooves for collection of dust/food
  • perhaps measure lb/oz as well

The scales I tested were the Soehnle Cuisina, with a raised weighing platform and a plastic bowl which fits on top. It officially weighs to 5000 gm / 11 lb 6 oz (tick) in 1 gm increments (tick), with a minimum weight of 1 gm (tick). Reality comes close to this (see below). The battery is a single 3V lithium button, which means it’ll last a long time, but if it suddenly dies you probably won’t have a spare ready to hand – hopefully the low-battery icon starts to show with enough warning.

The bowl is a convenient size and shape and sits well on the weighing surface. It comfortably holds at least 2.5 litres. Most of the time I would be using my own bowls, but for simple projects the included bowl is perfectly adequate.

The fact that the clear glass weighing disk sits well above the display is very good (tick), and although the display isn’t illuminated, it was much easier to read than my IKEA scales. The display turns off automatically after 3 mins (tick) or by pressing the button again (tick). If the registered weight is above zero, pressing the button tares the unit. The button had a clean click response. The grooves around the button, as on most similar scales, are a dust/food collector, so I’ll be taping some clingwrap over the display and button. The weighing disk can be removed for cleaning. It’s also handy as a grip for picking the scales up (so maybe I won’t drop them as often as other scales;) ).

Weighing was quick and consistent (tick) across the full range (1 gm – 5000 gm), with additions of large or small amounts giving the expected reading (i.e. putting, say, 5 gm, 500 gm or 5000 gm on the scales and then adding another item of a known weight always gave the expected result). Consistency is good, but that doesn’t say anything about accuracy. Weighing large numbers of Australian coins (which have standard weights), I discovered that the Soehnle Cuisina scales were mismeasuring the weight by about +1.4 gm per actual 1000 gm of material. This is unlikely to be disastrous, except at the pointy end of avant garde cuisine. The IKEA scales remain the ones I’ve tested that are most accurate.

On most occasions, the display settled on the final weight promptly (tick) and it didn’t change thereafter (tick). This was tested by (1) putting a range of different final weights on the scales, and (2) by rapid or gradual addition of material (e.g. pouring liquid into a bowl slowly).

But now for something annoying: The scales don’t register very gradual addition of material when starting from zero. This can be a problem for sprinkling powder, grains, or a gentle flow of liquid.

I measured out 10 gm of rice, removed it, and then very slowly sprinkled the rice back into the bowl. The display steadfastly showed “0”. To test if this problem only occurred around the zero point, I measured out 10 gm of rice, then gradually sprinkled in an extra 5 gm of rice. This worked fine.

The scales will not register (at zero) the addition of less than 1 gm, or multiple additions of less than 1 gm. My advice: never start by adding small amounts to the scales. Make sure you’ve added a larger amount of material quickly (to get it to a value above zero reliably) before adding any small amounts. Thankfully the problem only exists at zero, while some other scales I’ve tried had the problem no matter what had already been weighed. In tiny print on the guarantee sheet, I found the text: “This scale has an intelligent [sic!] zero setting. This may in some cases when bulk ingredients are poured very slowly cause the display to remain at zero.” Correct.

The scales can display metric or Imperial weights (tick), but unlike many scales this isn’t possible by simply pressing a button. The manufacturers decided that users will only operate in one system (and as long as you’re not an English speaker, that’s probably true), so they stuck a teencytiny switch under the cover for the battery compartment. Grr. If you do like Imperial, however, the weight is displayed to a decimal fraction of an ounce (tick; I won’t comment about the silliness of doing decimals of an anachronistic base-16/8/14/whatever measurement system).

All up, the Soehnle Cuisina scales are good to use and responsive, but – as is common to most domestic digital scales in my experience – a little inaccurate. In this particular case, the innaccuracy is small enough that you need not feel discouraged from trying the Soehnle Cuisina.

My sincere thanks to KitchenwareDirect for providing these scales for review.


(As a side note, I recommend against the increasingly common type of very flat glass scales (like those I rejected in my first article) in all brands. Careful reading of reviews of these on various US, UK and German sites indicates that they all have problems with changes in readings and sensitivity to where items are places on the weighing surface. Stylish looks, poor performance.)

Fantastic chocolate ice cream, plus equipment failure

I can feel myself approaching an equipment crisis. My favourite food processor is no longer sold in Australia and spare parts are crazy expensive. My kitchen scales are on the way out. My new spatulas bend too much. And just recently I lost the paddle for my ice cream maker. All such things are discovered at the least convenient moments, and the last two had to happen just as I was reviewing a book on ice cream – Ice Creams, Sorbets & Gelati by Caroline and Robin Weir.

Some weeks after testing a few recipes, I noticed the book had a recipe that ostensibly reproduced the stunning cacao extra bitter ice cream at Berthillon in Paris (see pic here). As that was the most impressive chocolate ice cream I’ve ever eaten, I had to try it at home.

I made the custard. Chilled it for 24 hours. Made sure the ice cream maker’s bowl was in the freezer.

Took out the custard. Assembled the machine. Couldn’t find the paddle. Couldn’t find it. Anywhere.

I put the custard back in the fridge. The bowl back in the freezer. And searched.

I went online to see if I was misremembering the colour or shape of the paddle while rummaging through cupboards and drawers and down the back of shelves.

In the end, I had a pot of custard and a frozen bowl and no paddle, so it seemed the only options was to try to churn the mixture by hand with a rigid spatula (that’s when I discovered the new spatula isn’t strong enough). Despite only having made a half mixture of custard, this was hard work, especially as you don’t want the mixture freezing solid against the walls of the bowl (that’s why the paddles scrape down the walls and base constantly). Uff.

As much as I complain, it was educational. Doable. And the result was damn good.

At first, the coffee in the mixture was too noticeable and I wasn’t excited. But 24 hours later this had mellowed and probably wouldn’t have been noticeable to new tasters. The final ice cream was dense and rich, beautifully chocolatey and melted superbly. A textural delight.

I won’t reproduce the exact recipe here, but the key characteristics were a basic rich vanilla ice cream custard with quite a lot of cocoa and chocolate dispersed through it, along with some sugar syrup and a small amount of instant coffee. (The cocoa is boiled for some minutes to get rid of the raw taste, and the chocolate is then melted into the milk for the custard.)

Was it the same as Berthillon’s? The potential was there. I used a 55% cocoa solids dark couverture. If I were to make it again, I’d try 70% or so as I think that would get it closer to the mark.

Meanwhile, I’m off to borrow my mum’s ice cream maker from 1985. She still has her paddle.