Erin takes Osaka, #3

Hey everyone,

It’s been a great few days in Japan, and this is my third and final post to wrap-up my Rosenkrantz travels. As I mentioned, I wanted to briefly talk about the various types of knives that Japanese knifemakers produce, and how they are essential to Japanese cuisine.

Japanese cuisine varies by the season according to what can be harvested and served fresh, and the food is often oriented toward fish and vegetables. For almost every dish prepared in Japanese cuisine, there is a specific knife used to produce it, totalling more than 200 types of specialized kitchen knives.The many types of knives and their particular purposes all contribute to the idea of bringing out a food’s natural beauty and flavour. Generally, the Japanese prioritize smoothly slicing ingredients in order to preserve their original taste and texture.

Yanagi knives at the Sakai Hamono museum

Let’s start with one of the dishes people might first think of when they think of Japanese food: sashimi, or fresh, sliced raw fish. Sashimi needs to be sliced with a razor sharp yanagi knife that can cut cleanly without bruising the fish’s surface. Therefore, a yanagi knife is long, thin, and single-ground, allowing sashimi to be cut in one light, precise stroke. If the fish had to be cut with multiple strokes, a zig-zag motion, or with lots of force behind the knife, it would ruin the surface of the fish and the integrity of the flavours. A dull knife, or a western-style double-ground knife would crush the fish’s flesh and cause it to lose moisture. Sashimi cut correctly has a sharply defined surface, looks smooth and glossy, and tastes juicy and fresh.

Tuna knife (on mahogany stand). Not as heavy as you might think,
but definitely a bit unwieldy.

Beyond yanagi knives for slicing fish and deba knives for fileting fish, there are knives for every size, shape, and flesh quality of fish. A tuna knife is big and long to cleanly slice tuna, a bigger fish. I held it using two hands. Though it wasn’t too heavy, I couldn’t imagine how much practice I’d need to be able to control it precisely. A hame hone-kiri knife is specific for hamo, or Daggertooth Pike Conger. Since it has many little bones, the honekiri is a big knife used to score the flesh with cuts as little as 1 millimeter apart to chop up the bones so it is safer to eat. There are 4 types of eel knives, or unagisaki  that originate from different regions and styles of preparation. The list goes on for salmon knives, bonito knives, knives for rolled sushi, and more.

With proper knives, Japanese chefs are also able to showcase the best of fresh, in-season vegetables. There is a similar emphasis on making clean cuts and slices, and the nakiri knife is often used for this. The blade is handy for peeling and julienning vegetables, and for making thin slices. For instance, sashimi is often garnished with thin daikon radish slivers. These slivers must be made with single-ground, flat-backed knives with extremely thin and sharp blades.

From the fresh food I’ve enjoyed here, I’d say the Japanese know what they’re doing with their cuisine. I’d also say they definitely know what they’re doing with their knives. These masterful creations are of the highest quality and last a long time, but not without commitment and maintenance on the chefs part. The thinner and harder the edge of a knife is, the sharper the blade is, and the more care is required. The blades should only be used for their intended purpose, and sharpened regularly.

Examples of specialized knives. I also saw knives for slicing Watermelon,
chopping leaves of herbs, cutting rice cake, and more.

Due to their excellent reputation, Japanese knives are growing in popularity and demand is increasing all over the globe. At Yamawaki, 60% of their sales go overseas, either to chefs who prepare Japanese cuisine, or those who desire precise cuts and excellent knives. This ties into one of the themes we’ve discussed in history of science: global networks. Not only in the commercial form of trade and products, but also of the circulation of knowledge, culture, and cultural practices. As mentioned in my first post, Sakai was historically a large trading port, and fittingly, their products continue to spread around the world.

Studying this topic has prompted me to think about other themes of materiality and of the nature of knowledge. Knives themselves are material objects created in steps by many makers. There is more to learn about when questioning the sources of the materials like steel and wood for the knife handles, and more to be interpreted from different aesthetics of knives. To study and consider these themes in depth, though, would take a lot more time. Japanese fluency also wouldn’t hurt. I have also been reflecting on the theme of knowledge, and how knowledge is passed down. While Japanese knives are increasingly in demand and a few craftsmen I met were young, I can’t help but consider the challenges this upward pressure on demand may pose in the future. With knifemaking being such a time and labour intensive process, and the training and expertise required to create such quality products, how can local masters keep up with global demand? It is notable that other traditional Japanese crafts, for instance the textile and dyeing industry of wazarashi cotton, or the painting of carp streamers,  are struggling to maintain themselves as younger generations are not learning and training to be specialists in the way their parents and families once did. How different knowledge is passed down or lost is another theme in history of science that is acutely present when observing and appreciating traditional crafts.

Till next time, Japan!

In some other closing reflections, I want to again express my humility and gratitude for this enriching experience. The craftsmen and companies I visited in Sakai were so accessible and accommodating, and the workers at the knife shops I visited were equally welcoming and helpful. Travelling alone and pursuing my own project of study has made me a more independent, resourceful, confident, and culturally fluent young adult. I have enjoyed it immensely, and want to extend my thanks to Harvard’s History of Science Department and the Rosenkrantz grant donors and committee for making it possible.

That’s all for now; I hope you have enjoyed following along on this brief exploration of Japanese knives and learned something new about knifemaking and Japan’s culture!

Erin

Erin takes Osaka, Post #2

Hi everyone!

Me (sweating profusely)
in the Mizuno Tanrejo forge

It’s me, well-rested and back to share more of what I’ve learned so far on my travels. This morning I’m starting this post over a cold brew in Osaka’s America-Mura, a hub of youth culture. Most of the stores in the area sell sneakers, street style apparel, or a combination of both. I passed a store selling NBA apparel and had to consciously avoid the temptation to go in and look for Raptors gear. Just like East meets West here in America-Mura (or at least it did 30 years ago when this area was all American import stores), East meets West yet again in two days in California. Raps in 6.

Anyway, as I mentioned, I wanted to continue this series by sharing more about the Sakai specific process of knifemaking. The traditional techniques of forging originated because of the limited natural resources available in Japan, and the need to effectively combine steel with less costly iron. Originally, the steel used in sword and katana production was tamahagane, which had to be smelted and produced from iron sand. Sakai knives are made now not from tamahagane, but are still made through a similar “hammering” process which breaks steel crystals into small parts and strengthens the metal in a craft of fire, iron, and water. Knives now can be made with blue steel, white steel, damascus steel, or stainless steel. Blue steel is harder than white steel, but according to Nino, who graciously showed me around the Yamawaki Cutlery workshop, some chefs prefer white steel because it is easier to re-sharpen the blades every night. This is essential for chefs - for instance, those who prepare sashimi require an incredibly sharp yanagi knife to produce high quality sashimi. I’ll be further addressing why this is in my final post, but for now, enjoy an overview of the Sakai knifemaking process itself.

The forging, or hammering process, is the first step to creating a blade. A piece of hagane hard steel, the back of the blade, and a jigane soft iron, are put together and heated until red hot, and then struck repeatedly to weld the metals and throw off foreign substances. I visited Mizuno Tanrejo’s workshop, a family business that has existed in the same place since 1872, and was told that the reason a forge is kept dark is because the smiths must be able to see the colour of the fire when working. If the fire is blue, the heat is too low, and if it’s white, it’s high. Smiths determine the temperature of the fire and the blade only by seeing and feeling the heat, which can reach over 1000° celsius. The heating and hammering process of forging is repeated a number of times to weld and shape the blade. In between rounds, the shaped blade is headed and then quenched in water to harden the the hagane steel, which eventually is made flat. This steel forms the straight, strong cutting edge of the blade, whereas the core of the knife, the jigane, is more flexible. Characteristically, Japanese knives have one side that holds an extremely sharp cutting edge, making them single ground/single bevel.

Hagane and Jigane before being merged

Hammer in the Mizuno Tanrejo forge

Pit where a heated blade is quenched (oven behind)

After the metal body of the knife is forged, the part is ready to move into the hands of the next craftsman: the sharpener. I was lucky to visit the Yamawaki Cutlery factory, owner of the Goh Umanosuke Yoshihiro brand. Here, in a separate building from the main office and workshop for attaching handles and engraving blades, I spoke to Nino and watched two young masters work on sharpening the blades. They sharpen 10-20 blades a day, which are delivered in their coarse form from blacksmiths.

Standing at one of four sharpening wheels, a worker holds a blade against the spinning wheel, where it throws off sparks, then holds it up to check for distortions, and places it back on the wheel again. I ask if it takes a lot of strength, and get a response that it doesn’t take power. But clearly it takes focus and concentration, as the artisan repeats the process and uses his senses to determine differences in the edge of the blade and its sharpness, intuitively spotting what needs work and placing the knife at a specific angle on the grinder. Apart from using the wheels and molds, a hammer and chisel are also used in this stage to assist with shaping the urasuki (concave on the backside of the knife) that allows the blade to be sharp and single-edged. Throughout the process, distortions and deformations are spotted and immediately corrected to ensure a perfectly straight blade. The blade continues to be sharpened and buffed, ending with a beautifully gleaming blade.

Sharpening a blade

Checking and correcting deformations

From here, the polished blade moves to the final artisan, who attaches the handle to the blade and engraves it. This part of the workshop is in the main building, in a brightly lit, organized room with mats laid on the floor and many stacks of containers of knives. In the corner, I watch a master heat a blade, then attach it to a handle. He pays particular attention to particular angle at which the blade is attached, adjusting or correcting distortions if necessary. I watch him do this efficiently and quickly with four knives. Lastly, he brings them over to a small block and chair, where he engraves a seal onto the blade by using a small hammer and chisel. It takes him less than five minutes to deftly engrave a knife. These knives are now ready to be sent out, sold, and used and cared for for many years to come.

Engraving the blade

Attaching a handle

A final product!

Today was a humbling experience. I am awed and overwhelmed by the kindness and hospitality of the people I met today, from salesmen to artisans to company owners. Even with a language barrier, they were welcoming and communicative, and I hope that I was able to convey my gratitude. I am deeply honoured to have observed these craftsmen at work, amazed by the skill they possess, and appreciative of the beauty and utility of their products. Once I get off the HUDS meal plan, I know where I’ll be going to stock up my kitchen! Stay tuned for my final post, in which I’ll be sharing what I’ve learned about various chefs knives and the cuisine they contribute to.

Overview of steps of knife production as seen in the Sakai Hamono Museum

Till then,
Erin

Erin takes Osaka, Post #1

Hey everyone!

A pre-takoyaki selfie
in front of the Dotonburi Glico billboard

My name is Erin, and for the next few days I’ll be in Osaka, Japan on my Rosenkrantz Discovery travels. Yesterday I arrived at Kansai International Airport on a flight from Hong Kong, then boarded the bullet train and subway into the city to grab dinner in Dotonburi (Takoyaki, or octopus balls, if you were wondering) and get settled and prepared for the rest of the trip. I’m here to explore the topic of Japanese knives and learn about traditional knifemaking, a rich and significant part of Japanese cultural heritage.

Today, I embarked on my journey of discovery by visiting the Sakai City Traditional Crafts Museum, including the Sakai Hamono (“bladed things”) Museum, and the Sakai-Tohji Knife Museum. Sakai is a port city located in Osaka prefecture, accessible from Namba station in Osaka via a quick 15 minute subway ride. The public transportation system here is incredibly impressive and also considerably confusing, but luckily I haven’t gotten lost yet! Sakai has shaped and been shaped by traditional craft and trade, including the forging and smithing industries, incenses, and wazarashi cotton. These industries, among others, led Sakai to be a globally connected city with so much trade that it once held the nickname “Venice of the East”. Today, one of the things Sakai is most well known for is its production of handcrafted steel blades. To begin this blog series, I would like to share some of the history I learned today that helps contextualize knifemaking's place in Japanese culture.

Sakai’s relationship with smithing began many years ago, evolving over the years according to society’s demands. For instance, expertise in metal processing may have originated with the making and casting of tombs, figurines such as the Great Buddha of Kamakura, and temple bells. In the “Yayoi Period”, from several centuries B.C. to 3rd century A.D., iron tools were first introduced and the Tatara iron-making process was developed from deoxidizing iron sands to produce Tamahagane Japanese iron. This iron was used as a raw material for Japanese samurai swords, and in the 8th century “Nara Period”,  techniques were honed to create blades from this material that did not break or bend. From the 9th century onward, food culture continued to develop, and “Houcho” knives for cooking became standard. In the 14th century “Muromachi Period”, the ritual type of Honzen Japanese cooking was established, when the host showed off expert knife skills in front of guests.

Sakai produced muskets as seen in the Tohji museum

In the 16th century, tobacco leaves arrived in the port city, and the sharp tobacco knives Sakai produced propelled their reputation for blades to fame. In  fact, in 1761, the Tokugawa Shogunate allowed Sakai tobacco knives to be stamped with a “Sakai Kiwame” hallmark for their unique sharpness. Throughout this century, Sakai was also known as a major global arms producer and was renowned for muskets made with local techniques of foundry and smithing. Some 100 000 muskets were produced. In 1982, Japan’s Ministry of Trade, Economy, and Industry proclaimed Sakai cutlery as a Traditional National Craft. The traditional techniques used to make Sakai Blades have been preserved and handed down by artisans and craftspeople, who continue to follow these traditions, and can even incorporate modern techniques, technologies, and materials to create specialized, beautiful, long-lasting products.

Today, about 90% of Japanese knives used by professional chefs in the country are crafted in Sakai. This Sakai cutlery, while potentially coming from many different local smiths, has been unified as of 2007 to be registered under the name of “Sakai Uchi-hamono” (Sakai Forged Knife) through the Federation of Sakai Cutlery Commerce and Industry Associations. From chefs knives that fillet fish or cut soba (buckwheat) noodles, to scissors, to tools that punch button holes, the discipline and diligence of the forging craft remain the same. Sakai continues to be home to many knife artisans and companies that continue the local craft, while also engaging in an international commercial network that caters to the increasing global demand for Japanese knives.

I was able to learn about the history of Sakai and its relationship with blades and commerce from visiting two museums today. I first went to the Sakai Hamono Museum, which is on the second floor of the Traditional Crafts Museum. This establishment is run by Sakai Government’s Industrial Promotion Bureau, and is both informative and commercial, with one large room with informative displays and videos, and the other containing many Sakai crafts for sale. Upstairs, the Hamono Museum is a large single room with an impressive array of knives for display and many cases of locally made knives for sale. I was the only visitor, and was able to walk around studying the cases and observing the wide variety of labelled blades. The second museum is run by the Tohji cutlery company, and was established by them to share the smithing culture. Again, I was the only visitor - in fact, this museum wasn’t even open when I tried to go in. I walked into Tohji’s shop headquarters, and when I asked about the museum, a staff member graciously walked me over, unlocked the door, turned on the lights, and let me look around.

The Tohji museum’s format felt more familiar; two ordered, curated rooms with set displays, and plenty of information about the commercial history of knives. I believe the main difference between this museum and the Sakai Hamono museum stems from the fact that the Hamono museum functions primarily a shop and secondarily as a museum (even the sign outside says “Sakai knife shop and museum”), whereas the Tohji knife museum is housed separately from the shop and has the sole intention of sharing the purpose and history of Sakai knives. Still, the Tohji museum is quite hidden, and clearly quite niche, considering it doesn’t seem to generally stand open.

        

           Upstairs entrance to the Sakai Hamono museum

Introduction sign at the Tohji museum

There’s a lot more to share about how the blades are actually forged and what makes Sakai blades unique. In my next post, I’ll be sharing more of what I have discovered about knifemaking in Sakai, including information about the raw materials, stages of production from pieces of metal to wholesale products, the incredible variety and specialized blades that are produced, and more. Now it’s time for dinner, and a good night’s sleep before visiting some knife shops and a factory in Sakai tomorrow. Maybe I'll head out to grab some soba, and try to catch a glimpse to see if they’re using one of these knives!

Case #5 in the Sakai Hamono museum, showing tuna filet knives on top, udon and soba noodle knives on the bottom left, and ritual knives on the bottom right.