Wednesday, April 11, 2012
The bearded guy behind the knife counter at Sur la Table on Spring Street looked at me as though I had spat on his shiny table before asking him if he stocked dead French babies.
Do you have any Opinel knives? I had asked, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Eager to buy some more of my favourite little slicers (I lost one), and even more eager for its high carbon blade, which sharpens to super sharpness...
No, he said. End of conversation.
My tail deflated.
It's French, I said helpfully (I thought).
And then, in a withering, dead-eye put down: We only sell Swiss! Japanese! and German! knives.
So...why is the store called Sur la Table? Cos that's, like, FRENCH.
And it sure ain't on your table, buddy.