He put me to work doing odd jobs and cooking lunch. Lunch was Nathan’s hot dogs.
“You gotta chop an onion.”
So I find an onion. Then I get a paring knife.
“What that you got?”
“That ain’t a knife. Go in the other drawer and get a knife.” Then proceeds to get the knife himself, one of several extremely sharp heavy weight full tang balanced German steel knives he keeps in the “other drawer.” It’s big enough to carve a side of beef and sharp enough for shaving. Wasn’t quite sharp enough, so he gets the steel and sharpens the knife a bit more. I start to chop the onion.
“Here, use this one.” He hands me a different knife–this one is much sharper than the other, slightly smaller, straighter blade. I take that one and finish chopping the onion.
By that time the hot dogs were ready. Into the buns, on with the chopped onions, the brown mustard, the ketchup (or was it catsup?) and down the hatch.
We also chopped up some rhubarb, which went well once we got the right knife.