When people talk about Japanese knives, the region where a knife was made often becomes part of the conversation. Sakai, Echizen, Sanjo and Tosa all have long histories of blade making, and each region has developed its own identity.
But how much does the region really matter when choosing a knife?
I sell Tosa Knives, so naturally I have a strong connection with Tosa and its knife-making culture. But if I’m being truthful, for most of my more than 25 years working as a chef, I didn’t think very much about where my knives were made.
I chose knives because I needed them for a job.
And even today, after becoming a knife seller, I sometimes see a knife made somewhere other than Tosa and simply think, “That looks cool.”
Perhaps that is exactly what makes Japanese knives so interesting.
Tosa Knives and Japan’s Different Knife-Making Regions
Japanese knives do not come from one single tradition. Different regions developed their blade-making industries through different histories, local industries and demands.
Sakai became particularly famous for traditional Japanese kitchen knives and its division of specialised work between forging, sharpening and handle fitting. Echizen developed its own distinctive blade-making tradition, while Sanjo became known for a broader culture of metalworking and forged tools.
Tosa also followed its own path.
Surrounded by mountains and historically connected to forestry, agriculture and practical tools, Tosa developed a strong culture of forged blades designed to work.
That background is one reason I find Tosa Knives fascinating. There is often something practical and straightforward about them. They can show the marks and character of handmade production rather than trying to hide every sign of the process.
There are people who care deeply about where their knives come from. Some may specifically want a knife from Sakai. Others may love Echizen knives, Sanjo craftsmanship or Tosa Knives.
There is nothing wrong with that.
Other people choose according to purpose. They may prefer one type of knife for sashimi, another for vegetables and something completely different for everyday preparation.
That is something I understand very well as a chef.
Steel also changes the experience. Carbon steels such as Aogami can feel completely different from stainless steels such as Ginsan, VG10 or powder metallurgy steels such as SG2.
One of the most interesting things I have learned since I started selling Tosa Knives is how difficult it is to predict what someone will like.
When I visit people and show them knives, some show almost no interest in Tosa at all.
Others immediately become curious.
Sometimes I look at someone and think, “This is probably the knife they’re going to choose.”
Then they pick something completely different.
Maybe they like the handle. Maybe they prefer the blade shape. Maybe the weight feels right. Sometimes there probably isn’t even a logical explanation.
Tosa Knives Are My Business — But They Don’t Have to Be Everyone’s Favourite
Of course, I want people to discover Tosa Knives.
I work directly with people in Tosa because I respect the craftsmanship, history and practical character behind these knives, and I want more people in Australia to know about them.
But I don’t believe I need to say that every Tosa knife is automatically better than every knife made somewhere else in Japan.
There are incredible knives being made across Japan.
And I still see knives from other regions and think they are beautiful.
For me, appreciating another knife doesn’t make Tosa any less special.
It makes Japanese knife culture more interesting.
Maybe the Most Important Choice Isn’t the Region
So, are Tosa Knives better than knives from Sakai, Echizen, Sanjo or somewhere else?
I don’t think that is the question I want to answer.
Choosing a knife is personal.
Since becoming a knife seller, that has become clearer to me every time someone chooses a knife I didn’t expect them to choose.
Maybe my job isn’t to convince everyone that Tosa is the best knife-making region in Japan.
If wonderful knives are being made all across Japan, then perhaps my challenge is something different.
I want to become the kind of person someone thinks:
“I want to buy my knife from him.”
I’m still a chef, and I’m still learning as a knife seller.
I sell Tosa Knives because I genuinely believe in them. I want to share their history, their craftsmanship and the people behind them with Australia.
But ultimately, I hope people choose the knife that makes them want to pick it up and cook.
And if one day that knife happens to be a Tosa knife from Asaoya Yaichi, I’ll be very happy.
When you work with something every day, sometimes you forget to ask where it actually came from.
I sell Tosa knives in Australia, sourcing handcrafted Japanese knives directly from Shikoku, Japan. I have also spent more than 25 years working as a chef in Japan and Australia. I know how these knives feel in the hand, how they sharpen, and how they perform in a professional kitchen.
But recently, I realised there was something I wanted to understand better.
How did Tosa knives actually begin?
I knew that Tosa had a long history of blacksmithing, but I wanted to look deeper into why this particular part of Japan became known for forged blades. What I found made me appreciate the history behind these knives even more.
The story of Tosa knives is closely connected to the geography and working life of Kochi Prefecture, historically known as Tosa Province.
Kochi is a mountainous region with extensive forests. For generations, forestry was an important part of life there, and people needed strong, dependable tools for cutting trees, clearing land and working in the mountains.
That naturally created demand for forged tools such as axes, hatchets, sickles and saws.
The history, however, goes back even further.
Sword-making techniques are said to have reached Tosa during the Kamakura period. By 1590, the Chōsokabe Land Survey Records documented 399 blacksmiths in Tosa Province.
That number surprised me.
It shows that blacksmithing was already deeply established in the region more than 400 years ago.
How Tosa Knives Grew With Forestry and Agriculture
The major development of Tosa forged blades came during the early Edo period.
In 1621, reforms by the Tosa Domain encouraged the development of forestry and new agricultural land. As forestry and farming expanded, so did the need for reliable cutting tools.
Blacksmiths responded to that demand.
Over time, production increased and techniques improved. What began as tools essential for daily work gradually developed into what we now recognise as the tradition of Tosa Uchihamono, or Tosa forged blades.
This is one thing I find particularly interesting about Tosa.
The tradition was not created simply to make beautiful objects.
These were working tools.
They had to cut. They had to survive hard use. And they had to be practical enough for people who depended on them for their livelihood.
Another characteristic that caught my attention while researching Tosa knives was something known as jiyū tanzō, or “free forging.”
Rather than relying entirely on fixed moulds, Tosa blacksmiths traditionally forged different shapes and sizes according to their intended purpose.
That flexibility made sense in a region where people needed many different kinds of blades for forestry, agriculture and everyday life.
Even today, you can see something of that character in handcrafted Japanese knives.
Small differences in hammer marks, blade shape and finish are not necessarily imperfections. To me, they are reminders that a knife was made by human hands rather than simply coming from an automated production line.
In 1998, Tosa Uchihamono was officially designated as a Traditional Craft of Japan. The tradition includes not only kitchen knives but also axes, sickles, hatchets, saws and other working blades.
Modern Japanese kitchen knives have naturally evolved as well.
Today we can find traditional carbon steels such as Aogami alongside stainless steels and modern powder metallurgy steels. Handles, finishes and blade styles have changed to suit contemporary cooks, but the connection between Japanese knife making and traditional forging remains.
After looking into this history, I see the knives I work with a little differently.
I started Asaoya Yaichi because I wanted to bring genuine handcrafted Japanese knives from Shikoku to Australia. As a chef, my first concern will always be practical: does the knife actually work well in a kitchen?
But there is another side to it.
Learning about Tosa knives reminded me that Japanese blades did not develop only as kitchen tools. Their history is connected to forestry, agriculture, sword-making knowledge and generations of blacksmiths adapting their skills to what people actually needed.
That history does not automatically make every knife perfect.
But I think understanding where these traditions came from gives us a better appreciation of why Japanese forged knives are the way they are today.
Perhaps that is what I like most about the history of Tosa.
These blades were never meant to exist only behind glass.
They were made to be used.
And more than 400 years later, that practical spirit can still be found in the Japanese forging traditions that continue across Shikoku today.
I still remember one of my earliest experiences with a Japanese knife burr.
I had only recently started working as a chef, and like every young cook, I was learning how to sharpen my own knives. One day, while sharpening, a tiny piece of metal suddenly came off the edge.
I looked at it and genuinely thought part of my knife blade had broken away.
So I went to the head chef and said something like, “Chef, part of the blade just came off. Is this okay?”
I can still remember his face.
He looked at me as if he was thinking, What on earth is this guy talking about?
Looking back now, it makes me laugh.
The blade had not fallen off at all.
What I had seen was a Japanese knife burr coming away from the edge.
After more than 25 years working as a chef in Japan and Australia, I have sharpened countless knives since then. But recently I realised something: although I had learned to recognise a burr through experience, I had never really stopped to investigate what it actually is.
When sharpening a knife on a whetstone, we are removing a very small amount of steel from the blade. As the abrasive surface of the stone works against the steel, the geometry of the edge gradually changes until the sharpening reaches the very apex.
At that point, extremely thin metal at the edge can be pushed over to the opposite side. This thin, folded-over material is what we commonly call a burr.
In Japanese sharpening, it is often referred to as kaeri (返り), or ha-gaeri (刃返り).
That tiny piece of metal I saw as a young chef was therefore not my knife mysteriously losing its cutting edge. It was material created during the sharpening process.
If somebody had explained that to me at the time, I probably would not have asked my head chef whether my blade had fallen off.
But making mistakes is often how we remember things.
A Japanese knife burr can be useful because it gives us information about what is happening at the edge.
If you sharpen one side and eventually detect a burr along the opposite side, it generally indicates that your sharpening has reached the apex in that area.
But there is an important distinction.
Creating a huge burr is not the goal of sharpening.
When I was younger, I sometimes thought that if I could clearly feel a large burr, I must have sharpened the knife properly. With experience, I learned that continuing to grind away steel simply to make a larger burr is unnecessary.
You are removing steel every time you sharpen.
The purpose is to create a clean, properly formed cutting edge—not to remove as much metal as possible.
This is where sharpening becomes more interesting.
A large Japanese knife burr may actually be a sign that you have continued sharpening longer than necessary. Once the abrasive has reached the apex and a burr has formed, repeatedly grinding the same side can simply produce more deformation and remove more steel.
This connects with something I have learned through my own mistakes.
If you keep sharpening at too high an angle, the geometry around the cutting edge can gradually become thicker. Similarly, using a whetstone that is no longer flat can affect the geometry you are trying to create.
Sharpening is not only about making a knife feel sharp today. It is also about maintaining the blade over many years.
Eventually, that weakened metal needs to be removed cleanly.
Simply leaving a large burr attached can create the impression of an extremely sharp knife at first, but that fragile metal may fold, break away or disappear quickly during use.
This is one reason the finishing stages of sharpening matter.
I normally use a 1000-grit stone for my main sharpening and then move to a 6000-grit stone for finishing. The lighter work at the end is not about aggressively removing more steel. I am refining the edge and reducing what remains of the burr.
The more knives I sharpen, the more I feel that the final light touches are just as important as the earlier grinding.
There is another lesson hidden in that embarrassing story from when I first became a chef.
Nobody starts out knowing how to sharpen.
You can read about angles, steels, whetstones and edge geometry, but eventually you have to put a knife on a stone and learn what is happening through your hands.
Over the years I have used carbon steels, stainless steels and modern high-performance steels, and they do not always feel exactly the same on a whetstone.
That tactile experience is one of the things I still find fascinating about Japanese knives.
More than 25 years after telling my head chef that “the blade came off,” I can finally give my younger self a better answer.
Don’t worry.
The blade didn’t fall off.
It was just the burr.
A Japanese knife burr is useful because it can tell us that sharpening has reached the edge, but producing the biggest possible burr does not mean producing the best possible edge.
For me, that is the real conclusion.
The burr is a sign during sharpening. It is not the goal of sharpening.
And perhaps that is why I still remember that confused look on my head chef’s face all these years later.
After more than 25 years working as a chef in Japan and Australia, I had never really thought seriously about Japanese knife thickness.
Of course, I have used both thin and thick knives. From experience, I have always felt that thinner knives are generally easier to use. They enter ingredients smoothly, require less effort, and simply feel good when cutting.
But I had never really asked myself why.
Since I started selling Japanese knives, I have found myself questioning things I used for years without thinking about them.
This time, the question was simple:
When we say a Japanese knife is “thin,” what part of the knife are we actually talking about?
And does thinner really mean better?
What Does Japanese Knife Thickness Actually Mean?
At first, I assumed knife thickness simply meant the thickness of the spine.
That is certainly one measurement, but it does not tell us everything about how a knife will cut.
A blade changes thickness from the spine down towards the cutting edge. The area immediately behind the edge can have a major influence on how easily the knife passes through food.
When I learned this, it immediately made sense from my experience as a chef.
I have used knives that felt extremely sharp at the edge but somehow required more effort when cutting. I have also used knives that seemed to slip through ingredients almost effortlessly.
The sharpness of the edge was not necessarily the only difference.
A simple cross-section diagram helped me understand this surprisingly well.
Imagine two sharp blades entering the same ingredient. One remains relatively thin behind the cutting edge, while the other becomes thick very quickly.
The thinner blade can continue through the food with less resistance. With the thicker blade, the sides of the blade begin pushing against the ingredient and forcing it apart.
Both edges may be equally sharp, but they can feel completely different in actual use.
This is why Japanese knife thickness is not simply about one measurement at the spine. The thickness behind the edge, the shoulders and the taper of the blade all contribute to how it moves through food.
For someone like me who spent years judging knives mainly by how they felt in my hand, it was interesting to finally understand part of the reason behind that feeling.
I also wondered whether there was a particular measurement where a Japanese knife officially becomes thin.
There really isn’t one simple number.
A measurement such as 2 mm at the spine can be useful, but where that measurement is taken matters. A blade may also become progressively thinner towards the tip.
Two knives with similar spine thickness can therefore feel very different if their geometry behind the edge is different.
The purpose of the knife matters too.
A gyuto and a deba should not have the same geometry simply because thinner sounds better. Japanese knives developed into different shapes because they were designed for different jobs.
This was probably the most important thing I learned.
A thin blade can reduce resistance through food, but that does not mean every knife should be made as thin as possible.
Thickness also provides strength and stiffness.
A deba, for example, needs enough strength for working around fish bones and joints. Making it extremely thin would defeat part of the purpose of the knife.
So instead of asking only:
“How thin is this knife?”
I think the better question is:
“Is this knife thin enough for its purpose while still having the strength it needs?”
Recently, I have been researching steels such as Ginsan, VG10 and SG2.
Steel is obviously important, but looking into Japanese knife thickness reminded me that the steel name alone cannot tell us how a knife will actually feel when cutting.
This part is not something I only learned while researching this article.
I have actually experienced it myself — partly because I can be a little lazy with sharpening.
If I keep sharpening a knife at too steep an angle, I can still create a sharp edge. But over time, the geometry around the edge can become thicker.
The knife may feel sharp when I test the edge, yet it does not pass through food as easily as it once did.
I have also made a similar mistake by continuing to use a whetstone after it had become dished instead of flattening it properly.
I knew I should flatten it.
Sometimes I just didn’t.
That uneven stone affected the way I was sharpening, and eventually the knife did not feel the same.
So when I read about thickness behind the edge and blade geometry, I thought:
I’ve done this to my own knives.
That experience taught me something important. Sharpening is not only about making the very edge sharp. Maintaining the geometry behind the edge matters too.
These days, I pay much more attention to keeping my stones flat and to the angle I am sharpening at.
Sometimes the best lessons come from doing it wrong yourself.
So, Do I Think Thinner Japanese Knives Are Better?
After looking into all of this, I wanted to give myself a clear answer.
Is a thinner knife a better knife?
My answer is:
Not always. But for most of the everyday kitchen knives I use, I still prefer a thinner blade.
Before I understood the geometry, I already knew from experience that thinner knives often felt easier to use. They entered ingredients more smoothly and required less effort.
Now I understand more about why.
Of course, I would not want a deba to be as thin as a light vegetable knife. Different knives need different levels of strength, weight and stiffness.
But if I am choosing a gyuto, santoku or sujihiki for everyday work, I personally prefer a blade that feels thin and moves through food with as little resistance as possible.
So after more than 25 years using knives professionally, this is my conclusion:
Thin does not automatically mean better. But if a knife can keep the strength required for its job, I prefer it thin.
Maybe my hands already knew that long before I understood the reason.
I have worked as a professional chef for more than 25 years, but honestly, I cannot say with certainty whether I have ever used an SG2 steel knife.
I may have used one without even knowing it.
For most of my career, I did not choose knives by looking closely at the name of the steel. What mattered to me was much simpler: how the knife felt in my hand, how it cut, how it sharpened, and whether I could rely on it during service.
Since becoming involved in Japanese knives from the selling side, however, I have started asking questions that I never really asked as a chef.
SG2 steel was one of them.
I knew the name and knew it had a reputation as a premium Japanese knife steel. But one description caught my attention more than anything else:
Powder steel.
Why would steel used for a kitchen knife be made from powder?
SG2 steel, also known as Super Gold 2, is a Japanese powder metallurgy steel used in high-performance kitchen knives.
Takefu Special Steel lists Super Gold 2, or SPG2®, as a powder steel. Interestingly, while the company publishes representative chemical compositions for steels such as VG10, the composition of SPG2® is currently listed as non-disclosed.
That is worth mentioning because there are many exact SG2 chemical compositions repeated online. Rather than treating those figures as official specifications, I prefer to stick with what the manufacturer itself currently publishes.
But what interested me most was not the exact percentages.
The term “powder steel” can sound strange if, like me, you spent most of your career thinking about knives as finished tools rather than thinking about how their steel was produced.
Powder metallurgy uses a different manufacturing route from conventional steelmaking. Molten metal can be atomised into extremely small particles, creating metal powder that is subsequently consolidated and processed into usable material.
One of the important advantages of this approach is greater control over the distribution of alloying elements and the structure of the resulting material.
That was when powder steel started making more sense to me.
It is not simply ordinary finished steel being ground into dust and somehow glued back together.
The powder is part of a sophisticated metallurgical process designed to create a highly controlled material.
For someone who spent years worrying about what happened to a knife after it arrived in the kitchen, it is fascinating to start looking at what happens long before a blacksmith begins making the blade.
SG2 steel is commonly used in Japanese knives with relatively high hardness. Many SG2 knives on the market are specified around HRC 62–63, although the exact hardness depends on the maker and heat treatment.
This can allow a well-made blade to take a very fine edge and maintain that edge for a long time.
But this is also where I think steel discussions can become misleading.
A high HRC number does not automatically make a great knife.
Steel is only one part of the finished tool.
Blade geometry, thickness behind the edge, heat treatment, sharpening, balance and the skill of the maker all influence how a knife actually performs.
After working with knives for more than 25 years, I trust what happens on the cutting board more than a specification written on a product page.
SG2 Steel Does Not Automatically Mean Better Cutting
This is particularly important when comparing SG2 steel with other Japanese knife steels.
It is tempting to look at SG2, VG10, Ginsan, Aogami or Shirogami and try to put them into a simple ranking from best to worst.
I do not think knives work that way.
Two knives made from the same steel can feel completely different because their geometry, heat treatment, weight, balance and sharpening are different.
And two chefs can use the same knife and prefer completely different things.
For most of my career, I did not know the detailed composition of the steel in my knives. I knew whether I liked using them.
That experience has not suddenly become meaningless just because I now know more steel names.
If anything, learning about steel has made me realise how many different factors come together to create what we simply call “cutting feel.”
SG2 steel is often positioned above VG10 in the Japanese knife market, particularly in premium knives.
That does not necessarily mean someone using a VG10 knife should immediately replace it with SG2.
I have used VG10 extensively, and I know from experience that a properly sharpened VG10 knife can perform extremely well.
SG2 is different for me because I cannot honestly claim the same personal experience.
Perhaps I have used it. Perhaps I have not.
After more than 25 years in professional kitchens, there are plenty of knives I used without ever asking what steel was inside them.
So rather than pretending I can give a definitive chef’s comparison between SG2 and VG10, I would rather say this:
SG2 interests me enough that now I want to deliberately use one.
Would I Notice SG2 Steel Now?
This is probably the question that interests me most.
If I unknowingly used an SG2 knife 15 or 20 years ago, would I have noticed?
Maybe.
But I probably would not have thought, “This must be powder metallurgy steel.”
I would have thought about how it cut, how long the edge lasted and what happened when I put it on a whetstone.
Today I would approach it differently.
Now that I understand a little more about what SG2 steel is and why powder metallurgy exists, I would like to deliberately use an SG2 knife and see what I actually notice in real kitchen work.
Maybe the edge retention will immediately stand out.
Maybe sharpening will feel different.
Or maybe blade geometry and sharpening will still influence my impression more than the name of the steel.
Researching SG2 steel reminded me of something that has happened repeatedly since I started looking more deeply into Japanese knives.
The more I learn, the more I realise how many things I simply never thought about as a chef.
For years, a knife was a tool.
If it cut well, sharpened well and survived professional kitchen work, I was happy.
Now I find myself going backwards from the finished knife to the steel, the manufacturing process, heat treatment and the people who eventually turn that material into a blade.
Does knowing all of this automatically make someone a better cook?
Of course not.
But it has definitely made me appreciate Japanese knives differently.
And perhaps one day soon, I will knowingly use an SG2 knife for the first time.
Or maybe it will only be the first time I actually know what I am using.
I had used VG10 Japanese knife steel for years before I ever stopped to ask a very simple question: what does VG10 actually mean?
After more than 25 years working as a chef in Japan and Australia, I knew VG10 as a practical stainless steel used in many Japanese knives. I knew how it felt on the cutting board, how it responded to sharpening, and how convenient stainless steel could be in a busy kitchen. But if someone had asked me what the letters meant, why cobalt was in it, or exactly what made VG10 different from other stainless steels, I probably would not have had a very good answer.
Since starting a Japanese knife business, I have found myself asking questions I never really thought about as a chef.
So this time, I became curious about VG10 and decided to look into it.
VG10 Japanese Knife Steel: What Does the Name Actually Mean?
One of the first things I discovered was that this apparently simple question was not quite as straightforward as I expected.
VG10 is an original blade steel produced by Takefu Special Steel in Echizen, Fukui Prefecture, Japan. On the manufacturer’s Japanese website, the steel is identified as V金10 (VG10), or “V Kin 10.” Takefu also produces other steels in the same family, including VG1, VG2, VG5 and VG7.
When I started searching for what the letters “VG” actually mean, I found several different explanations online. However, I could not find a clear statement on Takefu Special Steel’s official VG10 page defining the letters in the same way.
What I could confirm was that VG10 is a Japanese stainless blade steel produced by Takefu Special Steel and officially identified in Japan as V金10 (VG10).
In the end, I did not find a definitive answer to exactly what “VG” stands for from the manufacturer’s information I checked. That was also one of the things I learned by looking into it.
This was the part that made me realise how little I had thought about the steel itself.
According to Takefu Special Steel, representative values for VG10 include approximately 1.00% carbon, 15.00% chromium, 1.00% molybdenum, 0.25% vanadium and 1.55% cobalt.
I had heard the word “cobalt” many times before. But then I had another very simple question:
What exactly is cobalt?
Cobalt is a metallic chemical element, represented by the symbol Co. In VG10 Japanese knife steel, it forms part of an alloy containing several different elements, each contributing to the characteristics of the finished steel.
Takefu explains that chromium, molybdenum and cobalt strengthen the steel matrix and help achieve high hardness and long-lasting cutting performance. Vanadium helps refine the microstructure, while chromium, molybdenum and vanadium contribute to hard carbides that improve wear resistance.
Suddenly, a steel I had simply called “VG10” for years became much more interesting.
On paper, VG10 has a combination of characteristics that makes a lot of sense for kitchen knives.
Takefu Special Steel lists excellent corrosion resistance and sharpness among its qualities and says the steel is used not only for kitchen knives but also for general-purpose knives and machine blades. The manufacturer also describes VG10 as having good machinability and being relatively easy to sharpen.
That combination is important in a real kitchen.
A kitchen knife gets wet. It touches acidic ingredients. It gets sharpened repeatedly. In a professional kitchen, it may be used for hours during a single service.
For many cooks, having good edge performance while avoiding some of the maintenance required by traditional carbon steel is an attractive balance.
That helps me understand why VG10 Japanese knife steel has become such a familiar name in Japanese kitchen knives around the world.
VG10 Japanese Knife Steel From a Chef’s Perspective
Here I can look at VG10 from the perspective I know best: actually using knives.
I have spent more than 25 years using knives, sharpening them and working with them in professional kitchens. From that experience, I can understand why VG10 became so popular.
I have used both carbon steels and stainless steels over the years, and I do not believe the name of the steel alone determines whether a knife is good.
Blade geometry, heat treatment, sharpening, construction and the person actually using the knife all make a difference.
A well-made and properly sharpened VG10 knife can be an excellent professional tool.
At the same time, two knives made from the same VG10 steel can still feel very different in the hand and on the cutting board. The steel is an important part of a knife, but it is only one part of the whole knife.
That is something years in professional kitchens taught me long before I started looking into steel compositions.
One thing I enjoy about running Asaoya Yaichi is that it has made me curious about knives all over again.
For most of my career, I did not stand in a kitchen thinking about chromium percentages, vanadium or cobalt. I thought about whether my knife was sharp, whether it felt right, whether I could control it, and whether it could handle the work I needed it to do.
Now I find myself asking why.
Why is it called VG10?
Why does it contain cobalt?
Why do different steels feel different on the sharpening stones?
Why can two knives made from supposedly similar materials feel different when you actually use them?
Once I started looking into these questions, I found that one answer often led to another question.
And perhaps that is one of the most interesting things about learning more about Japanese knives.
VG10 Japanese knife steel was something I thought I understood simply because I had used it for years.
But once I started looking into it, I discovered there was much more behind those three characters than I had ever considered.
Learning about chromium, molybdenum, vanadium and cobalt does not change the experience I have gained from actually using knives. Instead, it gives me another way to understand and appreciate a tool I have spent most of my working life holding.
For years, I looked at knives mainly through the eyes of a chef.
Now, running Asaoya Yaichi has given me another reason to keep asking questions about them.
Sometimes a very basic question can lead somewhere surprisingly interesting.
And this time, it started with just three characters:
For more than 25 years as a chef in Japan and Australia, I have used many different Japanese knives. But when it came to Ginsan Japanese Knife steel, my knowledge was surprisingly simple: I knew Ginsan was stainless steel, and that was about it.
Since starting Asaoya Yaichi, I have become much more curious about the steels behind the knives I use and sell. I recently looked deeper into Aogami and Shirogami, and this time I wanted to understand Ginsan.
Why is it called Ginsan? Is it really stainless? Can it still rust? And why is it sometimes compared with carbon steel?
Ginsan is commonly known as Gingami No.3, or Silver Paper No.3. It is a Japanese stainless cutlery steel from the Yasugi Specialty Steel family.
Just as Aogami means “Blue Paper” and Shirogami means “White Paper,” Gingami means “Silver Paper.” The names come from the identification system traditionally used for these different steels. Despite the name, it does not mean that silver is added to the blade.
Ginsan contains roughly 1% carbon and around 13–14% chromium. The chromium gives it significantly more corrosion resistance than traditional carbon steels such as Aogami and Shirogami.
A Ginsan Japanese Knife is much more resistant to corrosion than a carbon steel knife, but water, salt or acidic food residue left on the blade for long periods can still cause problems.
This distinction is important. “Stainless” is better understood as stain-resistant, rather than a guarantee that the knife can never rust.
For a professional kitchen, however, that extra resistance can make a big difference. Fish, citrus, onions, tomatoes, salt and moisture are all part of everyday work.
This is where Ginsan became much more interesting to me.
When people hear “stainless knife,” they may imagine an ordinary, relatively soft kitchen knife. Ginsan does not really fit that image.
It can be hardened to levels suitable for high-quality Japanese knives and is also known for being relatively pleasant to sharpen compared with some highly alloyed stainless steels.
As someone who has sharpened my own working knives for many years, this matters to me.
Eventually, every knife needs sharpening. How the steel responds to the stone, how easily you can bring the edge back, and the edge you can create are more important in everyday work than simply reading specifications.
I do not think this comparison should be about deciding which steel is “better.”
Aogami, Shirogami and Ginsan each have different characteristics.
Traditional carbon steels can take fantastic edges and can be very enjoyable to sharpen, but they demand more attention. They react to moisture and acidic ingredients, develop patina and can rust quickly if neglected.
Ginsan offers another approach.
It combines stainless corrosion resistance with some characteristics that people appreciate in traditional Japanese knife steels, particularly sharpness and sharpening response.
That is probably why Ginsan is sometimes described as a stainless steel for people who like carbon steel.
Both Ginsan and VG10 are stainless steels commonly used in quality Japanese knives, but their compositions are different.
Ginsan has a relatively simple composition based mainly around carbon and chromium. VG10 is more highly alloyed and also contains elements such as molybdenum, vanadium and cobalt.
That does not mean one is automatically better.
I have used VG10 professionally and know how capable it can be. Ginsan simply offers a different balance.
After more than 25 years working with knives, I believe the steel name alone cannot tell you how good a finished knife will be. Heat treatment, blade geometry, thickness, grinding and sharpening all matter.
After learning more about it, I can understand why Ginsan is popular with both professional cooks and serious home users.
Professional kitchens demand practicality. You may be cutting fish one minute, vegetables the next, washing your knife and immediately moving on to another job.
A steel combining high cutting performance with good corrosion resistance makes a lot of sense in that environment.
For home cooks, the same qualities can be attractive. Not everyone wants to worry about wiping a carbon steel blade immediately after cutting every ingredient.
A Ginsan Japanese Knife offers the possibility of excellent sharpness with easier everyday maintenance.
Before researching this article, my understanding was basically:
Ginsan = stainless steel.
That was about it.
And after more than 25 years as a chef, I am perfectly comfortable admitting that.
For most of my career, I cared more about whether a knife actually worked than memorising the chemical composition of its steel. I sharpened knives, used them and developed my preferences through experience.
Starting Asaoya Yaichi has made me look deeper.
I now understand why Ginsan occupies such an interesting position among Japanese knife steels. It provides corrosion resistance and easier maintenance while still offering the characteristics expected from a high-quality Japanese knife.
But the biggest thing I keep learning is that the steel name is only the beginning.
A Ginsan Japanese Knife can be excellent, but heat treatment, geometry, grinding, sharpening and the skill of the people making it ultimately determine what that steel becomes in your hand.
And now, at least, when someone says “Ginsan,” I know a little more than simply:
After more than 25 years working as a professional chef in Japan and Australia, I have used Japanese knives for most of my working life. But when it comes to Japanese Knife Finishes, I recently realised there was a lot I had never really thought about.
I have used Kurouchi and Damascus knives, and I have even polished one of my own knives to a near-mirror finish. I have also spent many years using traditional Yanagiba and Deba, including an old Yanagiba passed down to me by my mother.
Of course, I knew these knives looked different. But I never really stopped to ask why.
Does a hammered finish actually help food release? Is Kurouchi practical or mainly traditional? Does a mirror-polished blade perform differently?
Since starting a Japanese knife business, I have begun looking at knives from a different perspective. So once again, I decided to do some research.
The first thing I learned is that Japanese Knife Finishes are not all created for the same reason.
Some come directly from the knife-making process, while others involve additional polishing, hammering or decorative work. Some can also influence how food contacts the side of the blade.
But one thing became clear very quickly: the finish alone does not determine how well a knife cuts or releases food.
Blade geometry, thickness, grind, sharpening, the ingredient and even cutting technique can all make a significant difference.
Thinking back over my career, this makes sense. I have always noticed the edge, geometry, weight and balance of a knife far more than its surface finish.
Kurouchi is one finish I definitely know from experience.
The dark surface is associated with the forging process and is intentionally left on parts of the blade instead of being completely polished away.
Years ago, however, I didn’t appreciate it.
I had a Kurouchi knife and decided I wanted it shiny, so I removed the black surface and polished the blade myself.
At the time, I thought it looked better.
Today, I probably wouldn’t do it.
I now appreciate the rustic appearance and character of Kurouchi much more. The remaining oxide layer can also offer some protection to the covered carbon-steel surface, although exposed carbon steel and the cutting edge still require proper care.
Tsuchime is the familiar hammered finish, while Nashiji has a subtler textured surface often compared to the skin of a Japanese pear.
The idea that these textures can help food release makes sense. An uneven surface changes the contact between the food and blade and, in some cases, can reduce the tendency for food to cling tightly to it.
But I learned that it isn’t as simple as saying:
“Tsuchime means food doesn’t stick.”
Blade geometry still matters enormously.
Two knives with similar finishes can behave very differently depending on their grind, thickness and overall shape.
This was interesting to me because it showed that Japanese Knife Finishes can have a practical function without necessarily being the main reason a knife performs well.
Migaki refers to a polished finish, although the degree of polishing varies between makers.
Mirror polish takes that idea much further.
I understand the attraction because I used to love shiny knives. I have spent plenty of time polishing a blade myself until it became highly reflective.
But a smoother surface doesn’t automatically mean better performance. Moist or starchy ingredients can still cling to a smooth blade, and after years in professional kitchens, I have also become much less worried about scratches.
A working knife is going to look like a working knife.
Damascus is another finish I have actually used. The layered patterns can be beautiful, but the pattern itself doesn’t automatically make a knife sharper.
In many modern Japanese knives, Damascus layers form the cladding around a core steel. The core steel, heat treatment, blade geometry and sharpening have a much more direct relationship with cutting performance.
I still love the appearance of a beautiful Damascus blade. I just wouldn’t say, “It’s Damascus, so it must cut better.”
Researching Kasumi was particularly interesting because I have used traditional Yanagiba and Deba for many years.
One of my Yanagiba was passed down to me by my mother and has been used for decades.
But I don’t want to pretend that I spent those years analysing its finish.
I didn’t.
To me, it was simply a traditional Japanese working knife. I sharpened it, maintained it and used it.
Only after becoming involved in selling Japanese knives did I start paying more attention to terms such as Kasumi and the manufacturing and polishing techniques behind traditional blades.
Sometimes there is a big difference between knowing how to use something and understanding exactly how it was made.
After looking more closely at Japanese Knife Finishes, I don’t think there is one “best” finish.
Some finishes may influence food release or surface protection. Some reflect traditional manufacturing methods. Others involve considerable extra craftsmanship and are valued partly for their beauty.
But I would never choose a knife based on finish alone.
After more than 25 years as a chef, I still pay more attention to blade geometry, sharpening, weight, balance and how the knife actually feels in my hand.
What surprised me most was realising that I had used some of these finishes for decades without really thinking about why they existed.
Starting Asaoya Yaichi has made me curious about things I once simply accepted.
And sometimes, researching something I thought I already understood reminds me just how much there still is to learn about Japanese knives.
Aogami and Shirogami are two traditional Japanese carbon steels that I only started learning about after entering the Japanese knife business.
I have worked as a professional chef for more than 25 years, but I have a confession to make.
Until I started selling Japanese knives, I didn’t even know what Aogami and Shirogami were.
To be honest, I didn’t know there were so many different types of stainless steel either. VG10, Ginsan, SG2… I had used knives for years without paying much attention to what the steel was actually called.
And even now, I’m still learning what makes each steel different.
As a chef, I had always judged a knife in a much simpler way. Does it cut well? How does it feel in my hand? How does it feel on the whetstone? And does it work well for the job I need it to do?
Then, after starting my knife business, I kept seeing the words Aogami and Shirogami.
Blue Paper Steel. White Paper Steel.
And one day I thought:
Why blue? Why white?
I honestly had no idea.
So I decided to look it up.
1. Why Are Aogami and Shirogami Called Blue and White Paper Steel?
The names Aogami and Shirogami come from the coloured paper traditionally used to distinguish different grades of Yasugi Specialty Steel.
“Ao” means blue in Japanese, while “Shiro” means white.
That is why Aogami became known as Blue Paper Steel and Shirogami as White Paper Steel.
After more than 25 years of using knives, I had never once wondered about this.
Sometimes the simplest questions are the ones we forget to ask.
2. So, What Exactly Is Shirogami?
Once I understood the name, the next question was obvious.
What is actually different about the steel?
Shirogami is a high-purity carbon steel with tightly controlled impurities. Its relatively simple composition allows it to take a very fine edge, and it has a strong reputation for responding beautifully to whetstones.
Of course, it is still carbon steel.
That means moisture, acidic foods and poor maintenance can cause discolouration and eventually rust.
It can also develop a natural patina through normal use.
For someone used to stainless steel, this extra maintenance may seem inconvenient. For others, it is simply part of the character of a traditional carbon-steel knife.
3. How Is Aogami Different from Shirogami?
This is where things started getting more interesting for me.
Aogami contains alloying elements such as chromium and tungsten in addition to carbon. These additions help increase wear resistance and edge retention.
In simple terms, Aogami is designed to maintain its cutting edge well.
The trade-off is that greater wear resistance can also mean more effort when sharpening compared with a simpler carbon steel such as Shirogami.
Before starting a knife business, I never thought about knives in terms of chromium, tungsten or carbon percentages.
I simply knew whether I liked using a knife or not.
Learning about the steel has given me another way to understand some of those differences.
4. Aogami #1, #2 and Aogami Super
Then I discovered that Aogami itself was not just one steel.
There is Aogami #1, Aogami #2 and Aogami Super.
Very simply, the different grades have different carbon and alloy compositions. Aogami #1 has more carbon than #2, while Aogami Super uses additional alloying elements and is known for high hardness and excellent edge retention when properly heat treated.
At first, it is tempting to think that a higher specification must automatically mean a better knife.
But the more I learn about Japanese knives, the less I think that way.
The steel is only one part of the story.
Heat treatment, blade geometry, grinding, sharpening and the skill of the maker can all affect how the finished knife performs.
This was probably my biggest question when I first started learning about Aogami and Shirogami.
Which one is better?
After looking into it, I think that may be the wrong question.
Aogami is well known for edge retention and wear resistance. Shirogami is famous for its sharpening response and ability to take a very refined edge.
But a knife is something we actually use.
How often do you sharpen? What ingredients do you cut? How do you use your knife? Do you enjoy sharpening? How much maintenance are you comfortable with?
And most importantly, how does the knife actually feel when you use it?
After more than 25 years working as a chef in Japan and Australia, there are certain words I have used thousands of times without really thinking about them.
They are simply Japanese knife names that become part of everyday language when you work in a kitchen.
But recently, a very simple question crossed my mind:
Why are these knives actually called that?
I knew what they were designed to do. I knew how they felt in my hand and when I would choose one over another. But when I started thinking about the actual Japanese knife names, I realised there were some origins I had never really investigated.
So, purely because I was curious, I decided to look them up.
And some of the answers were more interesting than I expected.
Japanese Knife Names Often Tell You Something About the Knife
One thing becomes obvious when looking closely at Japanese knife names: many of them are surprisingly practical.
The name may describe the ingredient, the shape of the blade, or the type of work the knife was intended to perform.
That makes sense.
Traditional Japanese knives were not originally created because someone needed another product for a catalogue. They developed as working tools for particular jobs.
Santoku is probably one of the best-known Japanese knife names outside Japan.
The kanji are:
三 — three 徳 — virtue or merit
So 三徳 literally means something close to “three virtues.”
Today, the Santoku is regarded as an all-purpose Japanese kitchen knife. One common explanation connects those “three virtues” with its ability to handle several major categories of food, often described as meat, fish and vegetables.
The Santoku itself is relatively modern compared with traditional Japanese specialist knives. It developed as Japanese eating habits and home kitchens changed, combining characteristics suited to a broader range of everyday ingredients.
That is probably why the name feels so appropriate.
It is not a knife devoted to one narrow task.
Its strength is versatility.
After years in professional kitchens, I can understand why the Santoku became so popular. For someone who wants one practical Japanese knife for everyday cooking, its name describes its character remarkably well.
This is where researching Japanese knife names gets more interesting because not every origin is perfectly clear.
出 means something like to come out, protrude or emerge.
刃 means blade or edge.
There are different explanations surrounding how the name Deba came into use, including an old story connecting the name with a craftsman whose protruding teeth supposedly inspired the term.
It is an entertaining story, but the precise historical origin of the name is not something I would present as absolute fact.
What we do know is what the Deba became: one of the classic Japanese knives for processing fish.
Its thick spine, substantial weight and strong heel make it very different from a delicate slicing knife.
For me, that uncertainty actually makes the name more interesting.
We use the word “Deba” so casually today that it is easy to forget the name itself has travelled through generations of Japanese cooking history.
The long, narrow shape of the knife resembles a willow leaf, giving us the name 柳刃 — “willow blade.”
This is one of those Japanese knife names that makes immediate sense once you see the kanji and the knife together.
The long blade is closely associated with slicing sashimi and other delicate proteins. Rather than using repeated short sawing movements, its length allows a cook to make a long, controlled slicing motion.
As someone who has spent many years working with fish and sashimi, this is where the poetry of the name and the practicality of the tool come together beautifully.
It looks like a willow leaf.
But that elegant shape also has a job to do.
5. Nakiri 菜切 — A Name That Says Exactly What It Does
The Usuba is a traditional Japanese vegetable knife, particularly associated with precise vegetable work.
Although its rectangular profile can look similar to a Nakiri at first glance, traditional Usuba knives are generally more specialised and are strongly associated with professional Japanese cuisine.
The thin cutting geometry makes sense when you consider the precision required for traditional vegetable techniques.
Again, the name does not try to make the knife sound exotic.
筋 can mean sinew, muscle fibre, tendon or line depending on context.
引 means to pull or draw.
The name reflects the knife’s relationship with trimming and slicing meat, particularly working along or removing sinew and connective tissue.
Today, the Sujihiki is widely used as a Japanese slicing knife.
For me personally, this is an especially familiar knife. I have used Sujihiki extensively in professional kitchens, including for fish and slicing work.
And this is another example of how Japanese knife names can outlive their narrow original interpretation.
A modern Sujihiki can do far more than its literal name might suggest.
Japanese Knife Names Are Small Pieces of Culinary History
I started researching this simply because I was curious.
After more than 25 years as a chef, I thought it was funny that I had said these names countless times without stopping to think about where they came from.
And that may be what I enjoyed most about looking into Japanese knife names.
Gyuto remembers the arrival and growth of meat cookery.
Nakiri tells you exactly what generations of cooks used it for.
Yanagiba describes the beauty of its shape.
Usuba describes its thin blade.
Sujihiki remembers the work it was designed to perform.
Santoku reflects versatility.
And Deba reminds us that sometimes the history behind an everyday word is not quite as simple as we assume.
A Japanese knife is a tool.
But its name can also carry a small piece of Japanese food culture, language and history.
I have worked with Japanese knives for most of my professional life, and I am still finding things about them that make me curious.
That is probably why I never get tired of them.
This article started with one very simple thought:
“Why is a Deba called a Deba?”
Sometimes that is enough reason to start looking.
And I think I might have found another series worth continuing.
When you buy a new Japanese knife, it is natural to assume that the sharpness you feel straight out of the box represents the very best that knife can offer.
I used to think the same way.
After more than 25 years working as a professional chef in Japan and Australia, I have handled many different Japanese knives. Yet one thing I have learned through actually using and sharpening them is surprisingly simple: a new Japanese knife does not always reveal its full potential on the first cut.
Sometimes I have picked up a brand-new knife and felt a slight roughness at the edge. It was certainly sharp, but something about the cutting feel made me wonder whether there was more hidden inside the blade.
Then I sharpened it myself.
And it cut better.
That experience changed the way I judge a new knife. Today, I do not necessarily see factory sharpness as the final destination. To me, it is simply the starting point.
1. A New Japanese Knife Is the Beginning, Not the Finish
For a long time, I assumed something very straightforward: if a knife is brand new, surely this must be the sharpest it will ever be.
It sounds logical.
But after sharpening some of my own knives, I realised that this was not always true.
A quality Japanese knife may already have excellent steel, geometry and craftsmanship, but the feeling at the edge can still change depending on how it is sharpened and maintained.
This is one reason I believe it is difficult to judge the true character of a knife from its first few cuts alone.
2. The First Cut Does Not Always Reveal Everything
Sharpness is not only about whether a knife can cut through something.
As a chef, I notice how the edge enters the ingredient, how much resistance I feel and how smoothly the blade continues through the cut.
Occasionally, with a new Japanese knife, I have noticed a slightly rough feeling at the edge. This does not automatically mean that the knife is bad or that there is something wrong with the steel.
It simply tells me that I have not yet discovered everything that knife can do.
This is also why I have always believed that Kireaji — the feeling of sharpness — is something you experience through your hands, not simply something that can be understood from specifications.
3. Sharpening My New Japanese Knife Changed My Perspective
The biggest lesson came when I sharpened a knife myself and realised that I could make it cut better than it did when it was new.
That was an important moment for me.
Until then, part of me had assumed that the manufacturer had already created the ultimate edge. If this was how it cut when new, then perhaps this was simply the maximum performance of that particular knife.
But after sharpening it, the cutting feel improved.
The knife had not changed.
The steel had not changed.
What changed was the edge.
That made me realise that the sharpness of a new Japanese knife should not automatically be treated as a measurement of everything the knife is capable of.
There is another reason I enjoy sharpening my own knives.
Over time, the knife becomes more familiar.
You begin to understand how the steel responds to the stone, how easily the edge comes back and what kind of finish feels right for the work you do.
For me, sharpening is therefore not simply maintenance.
It is part of developing a relationship with the tool.
This is especially important with handcrafted Japanese knives because I do not think of them as disposable kitchen products. A good knife can remain part of your kitchen for many years when it is properly used, sharpened and cared for.
If there is one thing I would tell someone buying a new Japanese knife, it is this:
Do not assume the first cut tells you everything.
Of course, a new knife should cut well. But I would not immediately conclude that its factory edge represents the absolute limit of what the blade can achieve.
Use it.
Learn how it feels.
And when the time comes, sharpen it properly.
You may discover another level of performance that was already waiting inside the knife.
That, to me, is 真価 — Shinka.
After more than 25 years as a chef, I still enjoy discovering what a knife can really do. Sometimes the most satisfying moment is not taking a new knife out of the box.
It is the moment after sharpening it, making that first cut again, and thinking:
Kurouchi Japanese Knives have a distinctive appearance that is immediately recognisable. The dark, almost unfinished-looking surface left from the forging process gives each knife a character very different from a polished blade.
But I have to admit something.
I have used Kurouchi knives for years, but I have never been someone who believes every knife has to be Kurouchi. I like them, I use them, and I appreciate the traditional appearance — but my relationship with Kurouchi has been a little more complicated than that.
In fact, many years ago, I completely removed the Kurouchi finish from one of my knives.
Looking back now, I probably wouldn’t do it the same way again.
The word Kurouchi (黒打ち) literally refers to the black finish commonly seen on traditionally forged Japanese knives. Rather than polishing the entire surface of the blade, part of the dark forge scale is intentionally left on the knife.
This gives Kurouchi Japanese Knives their rustic and unmistakably handmade appearance.
For me, though, the interesting part of Kurouchi isn’t simply how it looks when the knife is new. It is what happens after you actually start using it.
A handmade knife doesn’t stay frozen in the condition in which you bought it. Scratches appear. The blade gets sharpened. Carbon steel develops patina. Handles change with use. And the Kurouchi finish itself can slowly wear and change.
That is part of owning and using a handmade Japanese knife.
At the time, I had become slightly obsessed with mirror polishing knives. I enjoyed taking a blade and seeing just how clean and reflective I could make the surface.
So one day I had an idea.
Why not remove the black finish?
I took the knife to the whetstones and gradually removed all of the Kurouchi.
Every bit of it.
At the time, I was happy with what I had done. I wanted a polished knife, so I made it polished.
But today, I see that knife differently.
If I were doing the same project now, I would probably leave the black Kurouchi finish above the bevel and polish the exposed steel below it to a mirror finish.
The contrast between deep black Kurouchi and bright polished steel would probably look much better.
More importantly, it would preserve part of the original character of the knife.
Sometimes you only learn what you like after doing something the other way first.
This is something I think buyers should understand before choosing Kurouchi Japanese Knives.
They change.
The black finish can gradually wear. Areas that receive more contact may look different from areas that receive less. The appearance may become less uniform than when the knife was brand new.
Whether that is good or bad depends entirely on the person holding the knife.
Personally, I am fine with it.
If a knife changes because I have cooked thousands of meals with it, sharpened it countless times and used it every day, I don’t necessarily see those changes as damage.
They are part of the knife.
It is similar to the way I think about patina on carbon steel. Some people want to remove every mark immediately. Others enjoy watching the blade develop its own appearance through use.
I previously wrote about a chef I knew who loved keeping his knives absolutely spotless. Even a small amount of cloudiness on the blade could bother him.
There is nothing wrong with that.
Some people simply love a perfectly polished Japanese knife.
For someone like that, a Kurouchi knife may not be the best choice.
If you expect your knife to look exactly the same after years of professional use as it did on the day you opened the box, the natural changes of a Kurouchi finish could become frustrating.
This is why I don’t think there is one “best” Japanese knife finish.
The right knife depends on the person.
Some people love mirror polishing. Some love Nashiji. Some love Damascus patterns. Others want the rustic appearance of Kurouchi.
The important thing is understanding what you are buying and choosing something that suits the way you see your tools.
After more than 25 years working as a chef in Japan and Australia, my relationship with knives has changed.
When I was younger, I sometimes wanted a knife to look perfect.
Today, I am much more interested in what happens after years of actually using it.
A scratch doesn’t automatically bother me. A developing patina doesn’t necessarily need to disappear. A handle that has changed slightly through years of work can remind me how much that knife has been used.
And if the Kurouchi finish slowly changes, I can accept that too.
Perhaps that is why I now look back at the sujihiki I completely polished and think I would do things differently today.
I don’t regret experimenting with it. In fact, I’m glad I did.
It taught me something.
A handmade Japanese knife doesn’t always need to be improved, corrected or returned to perfection. Sometimes the changes that happen through use are exactly what give the knife its character.
For me, this is ultimately the attraction of Kurouchi Japanese Knives.
Not because Kurouchi is better than every other finish.
Not because every chef should own one.
And certainly not because a Kurouchi knife will remain perfectly black forever.
I like the fact that it can change.
If the black finish wears in a way that I like, great. If it develops differently from what I imagined, I can still see that as part of the knife’s story.
That attitude won’t suit everyone.
And that’s okay.
A Japanese knife is a personal tool. After years of sharpening, cooking and caring for it, it becomes different from the knife that originally arrived from the blacksmith.
Maybe that is something worth appreciating rather than preventing.
After all, I once removed every trace of Kurouchi from a knife because I thought polished steel looked better.
After more than 25 years working as a professional chef in Japan and Australia, I have used many Japanese knives. But honestly, I have never chosen a knife by specifications alone.
Of course, steel matters. Hardness matters. Blade shape, handle, balance and craftsmanship matter too.
Over the years, I have developed my own preferences. I personally like Aogami steels, for example. From my experience, I find them relatively easy to sharpen and enjoyable to use.
But there is another side to choosing a Japanese knife that is much harder to put into numbers.
That is exactly what happened with this Aogami #2 knife.
I like the polished blade because it does not immediately have the rustic appearance many people associate with carbon steel. Underneath that clean finish, however, is Aogami #2 — a steel I already know and like.
The green Micarta gives it a modern appearance, while the turquoise band adds something completely different.
To my eyes, there is even a little Wabi-Sabi in that turquoise detail. It is unusual without being too flashy, and it gives the knife its own character.
There is also a reason this story matters to me as the person behind Asaoya Yaichi.
When you buy a Japanese knife online, you cannot physically pick up every knife before making your decision.
I understand that.
That is why I believe the selection before a knife appears in the store is important.
I have spent more than 25 years using knives in professional kitchens. When selecting knives for Asaoya Yaichi, I want to actually see them, hold them and look closely at their quality, construction and overall feel.
I do not choose knives simply because a specification sheet looks impressive.
I want to offer knives that I would be happy to own myself.
I do not believe an expensive knife is automatically perfect for everyone, but I do believe good materials, skilled craftsmanship and careful finishing have real value.
Very cheap knives can do a job, but there are usually compromises somewhere.
A quality knife can also change the way you treat it. When you own something you genuinely value, you tend to clean it carefully, sharpen it properly and want to keep it for many years.
A Japanese knife can become much more than just a tool.
After more than 25 years working as a professional chef in Japan and Australia, I have used many knives. Some have been sharpened countless times. Some have developed scratches, sharpening marks, patina, and other signs of daily work.
Over time, those imperfections can become part of what makes a knife feel personal.
But recently, a chef I work with reminded me that there is another way to love a knife.
He had bought a new knife and was genuinely disappointed when he noticed a small scratch on the blade. The scratch had absolutely no effect on its performance, but that wasn’t the point.
He wanted to keep his knife beautiful.
It made me think that perhaps there are two very different ways to develop Japanese Knife Attachment.
One is to let a knife change through years of use.
The other is to protect its beauty for as long as possible.
And I think both are completely valid.
1. Japanese Knife Attachment Can Grow Through Use
For many professional chefs, a knife becomes personal simply by using it.
You sharpen it. You learn its balance. You understand how much pressure it needs and how the blade reacts to different ingredients.
Eventually, you pick it up without even thinking.
Small scratches appear. The polish changes. Carbon steel may develop a patina. The handle slowly begins to show signs of years of work.
For some knives, I actually enjoy watching this happen.
Those marks aren’t necessarily damage. They can be evidence that the knife has spent years doing exactly what it was made to do.
The chef I mentioned earlier showed me the opposite perspective.
His knife still performed exactly the same after the scratch appeared, but emotionally, something had changed.
He had bought something he considered beautiful, and he wanted to preserve that beauty.
I understand that.
Japanese knives aren’t only cutting tools. They can represent craftsmanship, tradition, design, and personal taste.
A polished blade, unusual handle, Damascus pattern, kurouchi finish, or beautiful forging can be the reason someone falls in love with a particular knife.
Telling that person, “It’s just a tool,” misses the point.
There are knives we want to use hard.
And there are knives we want to protect.
3. Patina and Scratches Aren’t the Only Way to Build Character
There is a romantic idea that a Japanese knife should become scratched, sharpened, and covered with the signs of years of use.
I like that kind of knife.
But it doesn’t mean every knife needs to age that way.
A carbon steel knife that develops a beautiful patina can be wonderful. A knife that remains incredibly clean and polished after years of careful ownership can also be beautiful.
Both require attention.
One owner may enjoy watching the steel slowly change.
Another may carefully polish and maintain the blade to prevent unnecessary scratches.
The results may look completely different, but both owners are building a relationship with their knives.
That, to me, is part of Japanese Knife Attachment.
4. Your Hand Learns the Knife Too
Appearance is only one part of the relationship.
After using the same knife repeatedly, you begin to understand things that specifications alone can’t explain.
You know how the handle sits in your hand. You understand its balance point. You know how the blade moves through fish, meat, and vegetables.
If I buy another knife specifically as a showpiece, I want to try something I haven’t really done before.
I want to see how carefully I can preserve it.
Not by putting it in a box and never using it.
I still want to use it.
But I would pay much more attention to how I clean it, dry it, sharpen it, store it, and protect the blade from unnecessary scratches.
Instead of allowing time to naturally transform the knife, I would see how much of its original beauty I could preserve.
In a way, that would still be “raising” the knife.
Just differently.
Maybe after five or ten years, it would tell a completely different story from the working knives I have used throughout my career.
I think both stories would be worth telling.
There Is No Single Right Way to Love a Japanese Knife
Two people can own similar Japanese knives and develop completely different relationships with them.
One may proudly accept the scratches, sharpening marks, patina, and years of professional use.
Another may carefully protect the polish and feel disappointed by even the smallest scratch.
Neither is wrong.
A Japanese knife doesn’t become personal simply because it gets old.
It becomes personal because of the time, care, work, and attention you give it.
For some people, beauty comes from allowing a knife to change.
For others, beauty comes from trying to preserve it.
Maybe Aichaku — 愛着 is found somewhere between the two.
And perhaps the most special Japanese knife isn’t always the newest or most expensive one.
It’s the one you wouldn’t want to replace.
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🇯🇵 Authentic handcrafted Tosa Japanese knives, sourced directly from Japan.
I work directly with Ishizuchi Kanamono Seisakusho to bring genuine handcrafted Tosa knives to Australia.
With over 25 years as a professional chef in Japan and Australia, I only offer knives that I genuinely trust and use.
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What you’ll find here:
✔ Authentic handcrafted Tosa knives ✔ Behind-the-scenes from Japanese blacksmiths ✔ Knife care & sharpening tips ✔ Japanese knife education for beginners ✔ Real experiences from a chef who uses knives every day
Every knife has a story. Every handle is unique. Every blade is made to be used—not just admired.
Whether you’re a home cook, a professional chef, or simply appreciate Japanese craftsmanship, I hope you’ll discover something that inspires you.
When people choose a Japanese knife, they often look first at the steel, hardness, blade length, handle material, or overall weight. These specifications are important, but there is another factor that can completely change how a knife feels in your hand: Japanese knife balance.
After more than 25 years of working as a professional chef, I have learned that the balance of a knife is not simply about whether it feels light or heavy. Two knives can have a similar weight and still feel completely different in use. Where that weight sits — toward the blade, around the center, or closer to the handle — can change the way you naturally move the knife through food.
I currently use different knives with very different balance characteristics, including a lightweight Aogami #2 Sujihiki with an octagonal handle, a 240mm VG10 Hammered 17 Layer Damascus Sujihiki with a mahogany handle, and occasionally a traditional Yanagiba. None of them feels the same, but that does not mean one is necessarily better than the others.
For me, understanding Japanese knife balance is really about understanding how a knife wants to be used.
1. Japanese Knife Balance Is Not the Same as Knife Weight
One of the easiest mistakes to make is assuming that weight and balance are the same thing.
They are not.
A knife may be relatively heavy but still feel comfortable because its weight is distributed in a way that suits your cutting style. Another knife may be lighter overall, yet feel unfamiliar because its center of gravity sits somewhere you are not used to.
This is something that becomes much clearer when you actually work with different Japanese knives.
My 240mm VG10 Hammered 17 Layer Damascus Sujihiki with a mahogany handle, for example, is noticeably heavier than some of the other Sujihiki knives I use. However, I would not describe it as difficult to use.
The important difference is where I feel the weight.
Its balance feels more toward the handle, and because of that, I naturally use the long blade differently. Rather than concentrating the cutting action on one small area of the edge, I tend to make a longer drawing motion and use more of the entire blade.
The knife itself influences my technique.
That is why looking only at the number on a scale cannot tell you everything about how a knife will perform.
One of the knives I regularly use is an Aogami #2 Sujihiki fitted with a lightweight octagonal handle.
This knife feels very light in my hand, and I find it extremely easy to use.
Because there is less noticeable weight pulling the knife in either direction, I feel that I can control the blade very directly. Small adjustments are easy, and the knife responds quickly to the movement of my hand.
This is especially useful with a Sujihiki, where long, clean slicing movements are important.
But I would not say that this automatically makes it better than a heavier knife.
It simply gives me a different feeling.
The lightweight construction allows me to control the knife more actively, while a heavier knife can sometimes encourage me to use the weight and momentum of the knife itself.
3. Japanese Knife Balance Can Change the Way You Cut
This is probably the most interesting thing about Japanese knife balance.
I do not consciously decide to use exactly the same cutting technique with every knife.
The knife itself changes my movement.
With my lightweight Aogami #2 Sujihiki, I feel that my hand controls almost everything. The knife follows my movement very easily.
With the 240mm VG10 Damascus Sujihiki, I notice the extra weight and the handle-biased balance. Because of that, I naturally make a longer slicing stroke and try to use the length of the blade efficiently.
Then there is the Yanagiba.
When I occasionally use a Yanagiba, the feeling changes again.
With this type of knife, I think less about actively controlling every part of the blade and more about allowing the knife’s own weight to contribute to the cut. I place the blade, begin the drawing motion, and let the weight of the knife help carry the edge through the food.
Of course, technique is still important. But the sensation is different.
Instead of forcing the blade through the ingredient, I feel as though I am allowing the knife to work with me.
That difference is difficult to understand from specifications alone.
4. Blade-Heavy and Handle-Heavy Knives Are Not Automatically Good or Bad
You will sometimes hear people describe a perfectly balanced knife as one where the balance point sits exactly around the heel or bolster area.
That can certainly feel comfortable.
But I do not believe there is one perfect balance point for every Japanese knife.
A blade-heavy knife can sometimes help when you want the mass of the blade to contribute to the cut. A handle-heavy knife can feel more controlled in the hand and encourage a different slicing movement.
A neutral balance can feel extremely natural for general-purpose work.
The important question is not simply:
“Where is the balance point?”
The better question is:
“How does this balance work with the way I use this knife?”
A Deba, Gyuto, Santoku, Sujihiki and Yanagiba are designed for different jobs. It would therefore make little sense to expect every one of them to have exactly the same ideal balance.
5. Handle Material Can Change Japanese Knife Balance More Than You Expect
The handle plays an important role in Japanese knife balance.
Traditional Japanese handles can be made from many different materials, including magnolia, rosewood, walnut and mahogany, as well as modern materials such as Micarta.
Their shapes and construction can also vary considerably.
Even when two blades are similar, changing the handle can change the overall feeling of the knife.
I have experienced this directly.
My octagonal-handled Aogami #2 Sujihiki feels extremely light and responsive. My 240mm VG10 Damascus Sujihiki with its mahogany handle feels noticeably heavier and carries more weight toward my hand.
Both are Sujihiki.
Both are designed for slicing.
Yet they do not feel like the same tool.
This is one reason I believe handle choice should not be treated purely as a matter of appearance. A beautiful handle can completely transform the visual character of a Japanese knife, but its weight, shape and material can also affect how the knife behaves during actual work.
There is another reason I hesitate to describe one type of Japanese knife balance as perfect.
Different jobs require different movements.
When slicing sashimi with a long knife, I want to use the length of the blade and complete the cut with as few unnecessary movements as possible.
When using a general-purpose Gyuto, the movement may be completely different.
When working with a heavier knife such as a Deba, weight can become part of the tool’s character rather than something that needs to be eliminated.
This is also why buying the lightest possible knife is not necessarily the answer.
Lightness can be wonderful.
I personally enjoy the feeling of my lightweight octagonal-handled Sujihiki very much.
But weight can also have a purpose.
Sometimes the mass of a knife provides stability. Sometimes it helps the blade move naturally through the cut. Sometimes a little extra weight simply feels reassuring in the hand.
The important thing is how the knife, your hand, the ingredient and your cutting technique work together.
This may be the biggest lesson I have learned from using different knives professionally.
Specifications are useful.
Steel type matters. Hardness matters. Blade length matters. Handle material matters. Weight matters.
But specifications cannot completely describe how a knife feels.
You can read:
240mm.
VG10.
17-layer Damascus.
Mahogany handle.
You can even know the exact weight.
But none of those numbers can fully explain what happens when you hold that knife and begin slicing with it.
The same is true of my lightweight Aogami #2 Sujihiki.
On paper, someone might simply see a long carbon-steel slicing knife with a Japanese handle.
In my hand, however, what I notice immediately is how light and controllable it feels.
And when I pick up a Yanagiba, I experience something different again. I naturally allow more of the knife’s own weight to participate in the slicing motion.
That experience cannot easily be reduced to a specification sheet.
Japanese Knife Balance Is Personal
After more than 25 years of professional cooking, I do not believe there is one mathematical formula for the perfect Japanese knife balance.
I also do not believe that lighter automatically means better.
My lightweight Aogami #2 Sujihiki is extremely comfortable and easy for me to control.
My 240mm VG10 Hammered 17 Layer Damascus Sujihiki with a mahogany handle is heavier and feels more weighted toward the handle, yet I still enjoy using it. It simply encourages me to use the long blade differently and make full use of its length.
And with a Yanagiba, I often feel that the weight of the knife itself becomes part of the slicing technique.
Three knives.
Three different feelings.
Three slightly different ways of cutting.
That is what makes Japanese knives interesting.
The best knife is not necessarily the lightest knife, the heaviest knife, or even the knife with the most perfectly centred balance point.
It is the knife whose balance works naturally with your hand, your technique and the job you are asking it to do.
Sometimes you only understand that when you actually start cutting.
If you own or are thinking about buying a carbon steel Japanese knife, you’ve probably heard the term Japanese Knife Patina. Until I started selling handcrafted Japanese knives, I honestly thought any discoloration on a blade was something to avoid.
What surprised me was discovering that many knife enthusiasts actually appreciate a beautiful patina. For some, it’s not damage at all—it’s a sign that the knife is being used, cared for, and developing its own unique character.
In this article, I’ll explain what Japanese Knife Patina really is, how it differs from rust, and why so many experienced knife users see it as something worth embracing.
Japanese Knife Patina is a natural oxide layer that develops on carbon steel after repeated use. It often appears in shades of blue, grey, purple, or dark charcoal depending on the foods you cut and how you care for the knife.
Unlike red rust, patina is generally stable and can even help slow further oxidation.
Many professional chefs never try to remove it. Instead, they simply keep the blade clean and dry after use.
➡ Read more: Beginner’s Guide to Japanese Kitchen Knives
Why Japanese Knife Patina Is Different From Rust
One of the biggest misconceptions is that every color change means corrosion.
Here’s the difference:
Japanese Knife Patina
Blue, grey, or dark tones
Forms naturally during normal use
Can act as a protective oxide layer
Often appreciated by carbon steel knife users
Rust
Red or orange color
Caused by moisture left on the blade
Can damage the steel if ignored
Should be removed as soon as possible
Understanding this difference helps you enjoy your knife with more confidence instead of worrying every time the blade changes color.
Whether you prefer a mirror finish or a naturally developed Japanese Knife Patina, both represent different ways of appreciating handcrafted Japanese knives.
One celebrates perfection.
The other celebrates experience.
Whichever you prefer, the most important thing is to enjoy using your knife and taking proper care of it.
Choosing a Japanese knife can feel overwhelming, especially when you first encounter the debate between Single Bevel vs Double Bevel. Understanding Single Bevel vs Double Bevel is one of the most important steps when selecting a knife that matches your cooking style.
After working as a professional chef for more than 25 years, I’ve learned that the best knife isn’t simply determined by whether it is single bevel or double bevel. Steel, balance, craftsmanship, and comfort all matter. However, understanding Single Bevel vs Double Bevel will help you make a much more informed decision before investing in a quality Japanese knife.
The phrase Single Bevel vs Double Bevel simply refers to how the cutting edge of a knife is ground.
A single bevel knife has an edge ground on only one side of the blade. The opposite side is mostly flat and usually contains a slight concave surface called an ura. This traditional design is common on knives made specifically for Japanese cuisine.
A double bevel knife has cutting edges on both sides of the blade. Even if one side is sharpened slightly more than the other, it is still classified as a double bevel knife.
Understanding this basic difference makes it much easier to choose the right knife for your kitchen.
Many first-time buyers believe that every Japanese knife is single bevel.
In reality, that’s not true.
Traditional knives such as Yanagiba, Deba, and Usuba are commonly made as single bevel knives, while modern Japanese kitchen knives such as Gyuto, Santoku, and most Sujihiki are generally double bevel.
Each style has been developed for different purposes rather than one being “better” than the other.
Single Bevel vs Double Bevel for Traditional Japanese Knives
Yanagiba
Single bevel knives are designed for precision.
Typical examples include:
Yanagiba
Deba
Usuba
These knives allow incredibly clean cuts when preparing sashimi, sushi, and traditional Japanese vegetable techniques.
Because the edge is designed specifically for either right-handed or left-handed users, choosing the correct version is important.
For chefs specialising in Japanese cuisine, single bevel knives remain an essential tool.
Single Bevel vs Double Bevel for Everyday Cooking
Double bevel knives are much more versatile.
Popular examples include:
Gyuto
Santoku
Petty
Most Sujihiki
Most Nakiri
These knives are suitable for meat, fish, vegetables, and everyday food preparation.
Whether you’re a professional chef or a home cook, double bevel knives are generally easier to use and maintain.
Single Bevel vs Double Bevel Comparison
When comparing Single Bevel vs Double Bevel, there is no universal winner. Both designs have their own strengths, and the right choice depends on how you plan to use your knife.
A single bevel knife is designed for maximum precision. It excels at traditional Japanese techniques such as slicing sashimi and creating clean, accurate cuts. However, it requires more skill to master and is usually made specifically for either right-handed or left-handed users.
A double bevel knife offers outstanding versatility. It is easier for most people to use, works well for a wide variety of ingredients, and is generally the best choice for everyday cooking. This is why knives such as the Gyuto and Santoku have become so popular among both professional chefs and home cooks.
Rather than asking which is better, it’s more useful to ask which knife best suits your cooking style. A well-made Japanese knife, whether single bevel or double bevel, can provide exceptional performance when matched to the right task.
After more than 25 years as a chef, I honestly never spent much time thinking about whether the knife in my hand was single bevel or double bevel.
What mattered most was how confidently it performed during service.
I still remember buying my first Gyuto in Tokyo’s famous Kappabashi kitchen district. The knife shop recommended a double bevel Gyuto without hesitation, and it became a knife I trusted for years.
One thing I do understand is how important handedness becomes with traditional single bevel knives. If I imagine using a left-handed single bevel knife in my right hand, it would feel awkward and unnatural.
Interestingly, we also offer a double bevel thick Deba at Asaoya Yaichi. While many people associate Deba knives exclusively with single bevel construction, double bevel versions offer excellent versatility while retaining the strength needed for fish preparation.
This is a great reminder that Japanese knife making continues to evolve while respecting centuries of craftsmanship.
Which Is Better: Single Bevel vs Double Bevel?
Choose a single bevel knife if you:
Frequently prepare sashimi or sushi.
Want maximum precision.
Enjoy traditional Japanese sharpening techniques.
Prefer authentic Japanese culinary methods
Choose a double bevel knife if you:
Are buying your first Japanese knife.
Cook a wide variety of ingredients.
Want easier sharpening and maintenance.
Share your knives with family members.
For most people, a quality Gyuto or Santoku is the perfect introduction to Japanese knives.
Final Thoughts on Single Bevel vs Double Bevel
The discussion around Single Bevel vs Double Bevel is not about deciding which knife is superior.
Instead, it’s about understanding which design best suits your cooking.
Traditional single bevel knives continue to represent the highest level of Japanese craftsmanship for specialised techniques, while double bevel knives provide exceptional versatility for daily use.
From my experience after more than 25 years as a chef, I’ve learned that bevel design is only one part of choosing the right knife. Steel quality, heat treatment, balance, handle comfort, and craftsmanship are equally important.
A well-made Japanese knife should feel like a natural extension of your hand, regardless of whether it is single bevel or double bevel.
When I imported my first batch of handmade Japanese knives, I ordered two or three of the same model. I expected them to look almost identical. After all, they had the same blade length, the same steel, the same handle material, and were made by the same craftsman.
But when I placed them side by side, I noticed something unexpected.
No two knives were exactly the same.
At first, I wondered if something was wrong. Then I realized I wasn’t looking at imperfections—I was looking at the beauty of true craftsmanship. That moment changed the way I saw handmade Japanese knives, and it reminded me why so many people around the world value them so highly.
Handmade Japanese Knives Reflect the Hands That Made Them
One of the biggest differences between handmade Japanese knives and factory-produced knives is that every step involves skilled human hands.
Even when a blacksmith follows the same design repeatedly, every hammer strike is unique. Every blade is shaped, ground, and finished by hand. Small differences naturally appear throughout the process, and those differences become part of each knife’s character.
Rather than being flaws, they are evidence that a real craftsman created the knife instead of a machine.
Handmade Japanese Knives Have Unique Kurouchi and Hammered Finishes
If you compare two handmade Japanese knives with a Kurouchi or Tsuchime finish, you’ll quickly notice subtle differences.
The dark Kurouchi surface may have a slightly different texture.
The hammered pattern may catch the light differently.
Even the polish near the edge can vary from one knife to another.
These details cannot be copied perfectly because they are created by hand, making every knife feel genuinely individual.
➡ Internal Link: Why I Still Use Carbon Steel for Sashimi After 25 Years
Every Wooden Handle Is Naturally Different
The blade isn’t the only part that tells a story.
Natural wood has its own grain, color, and texture. Even if two handles are made from the same species of wood, they will never look completely identical.
Some pieces have darker lines.
Others have lighter tones.
Some display dramatic grain patterns, while others appear clean and understated.
These natural variations make every handmade Japanese knife even more personal.
Small Differences Are Part of Traditional Craftsmanship
Traditional Japanese workshops aim for exceptional quality.
That difference is important.
A craftsman focuses on creating the best possible knife rather than producing thousands of completely identical pieces. Slight variations in finish or appearance are simply part of the handmade process that has been passed down through generations.
This is one reason collectors, chefs, and cooking enthusiasts often appreciate handmade Japanese knives so much.
➡ Internal Link: Samurai Century | The Finest Expression of Tosa Knife Craftsmanship, Passed Down Since the Age of the Chōsokabe Clan
Many people assume that two knives with the same specifications should look exactly alike.
That’s true for mass-produced products.
It isn’t true for handmade Japanese knives.
The subtle differences in finish, texture, wood grain, and overall appearance aren’t defects—they’re signs that the knife was made through traditional craftsmanship rather than automated production.
Once I understood that, I stopped searching for perfect uniformity and started appreciating individuality instead.
That’s one of the reasons handmade Japanese knives continue to impress me every time I open a new shipment.
If you asked me what knife I still reach for after more than 25 years as a professional chef, my answer might surprise you.
Despite owning and using modern stainless steel knives such as VG10, Ginsan, and SG2, I still find myself reaching for a carbon steel sashimi knife whenever I’m preparing sashimi.
Does that mean carbon steel is always better?
Not at all.
After using both carbon steel and stainless steel knives in busy professional kitchens, I’ve learned that every knife has its place. Choosing the right knife isn’t about following trends—it’s about understanding what works best for the job.
When slicing sashimi, I enjoy using my Aogami carbon steel knife.
The first thing I notice is how effortlessly it moves through the fish. The edge feels incredibly refined, allowing long, smooth slices with very little resistance.
Some chefs believe carbon steel produces cleaner cuts and may even reduce unwanted fish aroma, particularly when slicing tuna or bonito. Whether that’s caused by the steel itself or simply by its exceptional edge is still open to debate.
Personally, I don’t choose carbon steel because I believe it performs miracles.
I choose it because I enjoy the feeling every time I use it.
Modern stainless steels have improved dramatically.
A properly sharpened VG10 sujihiki can produce beautiful sashimi with excellent edge retention and outstanding corrosion resistance.
If my VG10 sujihiki and my carbon steel knife are both sharpened to the same level, I honestly don’t think most customers would notice any difference once the sashimi reaches the plate.
This is why I always tell people not to become obsessed with steel names.
My knife choice changes completely when preparing vegetables.
For onions, tomatoes, citrus fruits, and many everyday ingredients, I usually grab my stainless steel gyuto.
It’s not because carbon steel cannot cut them.
It’s because stainless steel lets me work without constantly thinking about maintenance.
Acidic ingredients can react with carbon steel, so I know I’ll need to clean and dry the knife quickly. During a busy shift, stainless steel simply makes life easier.
After more than 25 years as a chef, I’ve stopped asking which steel is “better.”
Instead, I ask which knife is better for today’s job.
For me, that often means reaching for a carbon steel knife when preparing sashimi and a stainless steel knife for everyday kitchen work.
If there’s one lesson I’ve learned throughout my career, it’s this:
The best knife isn’t determined by its steel alone. It’s determined by how well it’s sharpened, maintained, and matched to the task at hand.
Whether you choose carbon steel or stainless steel, investing in a quality Japanese knife and learning how to care for it will reward you for years to come.
James St Festival Part 2 continues my behind-the-scenes journey through one of Brisbane’s biggest food festivals. After the tuna cutting show ends, the real work begins as nearly 100kg of bluefin tuna sashimi is prepared using handcrafted Japanese knives.
When people visit the James St Festival, they remember the atmosphere, the incredible food, and the famous tuna cutting show.
As a sushi chef working behind the scenes, my memories are very different.
For me, the real challenge began the moment the applause ended.
This is Part 2 of my behind-the-scenes journey through one of Brisbane’s biggest food festivals—a day filled with preparation, teamwork, and the Japanese knives I rely on every day.
Visitors usually remember the chef standing behind the counter.
What they rarely see is the entire team working together behind the scenes.
While one chef slices tuna, another prepares the display, another packs fresh sashimi, while others replenish stock, clean equipment, and keep every station organised.
Nobody could manage an event like this alone.
The smooth service that customers experience is only possible because every member of the team works together toward the same goal.
That is one of the greatest lessons I take away from every major food festival.
As the afternoon came to an end, the crowds slowly disappeared.
Inside the kitchen, we cleaned our knives, washed every workstation, packed away equipment, and finally had a chance to take a breath.
Only then did the exhaustion begin to sink in.
For visitors, the James St Festival lasts only a few enjoyable hours.
For the chefs behind the scenes, those few hours represent an entire day of preparation, concentration, teamwork, and hard work.
After more than 25 years as a professional chef, experiences like this still remind me why I love this profession.
Creating memorable experiences for people is always worth the effort.
Final Thoughts
This two-part series has been a little different from my usual articles about Japanese knives.
Instead of focusing only on steel, blade shapes, or craftsmanship, I wanted to share what life really looks like behind the scenes of one of Brisbane’s biggest food festivals.
Every handcrafted Japanese knife has a story.
Every chef has a story.
And every unforgettable meal begins long before the first customer arrives.
If you enjoyed following my journey through the James St Festival, I invite you to explore more stories about traditional Tosa knives, Japanese craftsmanship, and the tools I trust every day as a professional sushi chef.
Whether you’re looking for your first Japanese knife or simply want to learn more about the people and traditions behind them, you’ll find plenty of guides, stories, and handcrafted knives at Asaoya Yaichi.
When people think of beautiful Japanese knives, they often picture polished Damascus blades or traditional wooden handles. While those features certainly have their charm, sometimes it is the combination of colours that leaves the strongest impression.
That is exactly what makes these Black and Red Japanese Knives so memorable.
The deep black and vibrant red octagonal handles create a striking contrast that reflects both elegance and strength. Inspired by traditional Japanese aesthetics, these handcrafted knives are designed not only to perform exceptionally in the kitchen but also to become pieces you are proud to display.
Whether you’re a professional chef or a passionate home cook, these knives offer something special every time you pick them up.
If you’re looking for authentic handcrafted Japanese knives in Australia, you’ll find our carefully selected collection at Asaoya Yaichi
Japanese craftsmanship has always balanced beauty with practicality.
Black has long represented sophistication, stability and quiet confidence, while red symbolises passion, celebration and energy. Together they create a timeless contrast that immediately attracts attention without appearing overly flashy.
These Black and Red Japanese Knives perfectly capture that balance.
Each knife features a beautiful Damascus blade paired with a carefully finished octagonal handle combining rich black and vibrant red. The result is a knife that looks equally at home in a professional sushi bar, an open restaurant kitchen or a modern family home.
Unlike mass-produced knives, handcrafted Japanese knives develop a personal connection with their owner. Every scratch tells a story, and every meal prepared becomes part of that journey.
Although these knives share the same elegant design language, each serves a different purpose in the kitchen.
165mm Usuba A8 Hammered Damascus
The 165mm Usuba is designed primarily for vegetables.
Made from A8 stainless steel, it offers excellent corrosion resistance, toughness and easy maintenance. The hammered Damascus finish not only adds visual depth but also helps reduce food sticking to the blade.
Whether you’re preparing fine julienne vegetables, decorative garnishes or paper-thin slices, the Usuba provides impressive precision while remaining forgiving for everyday use.
Its lightweight balance also makes long preparation sessions far more comfortable.
165mm Santoku A10 Damascus
The matching 165mm Santoku features A10 stainless steel.
With its higher carbon content, A10 achieves greater hardness and longer edge retention than A8 while still offering excellent corrosion resistance.
As an all-purpose Japanese kitchen knife, the Santoku handles vegetables, meat and fish with remarkable ease.
For many home cooks, this will quickly become the knife they reach for every day.
Beautiful knives should never be reserved only for special occasions.
These Black and Red Japanese Knives were made to be used.
Every blade is handcrafted using techniques that have been refined over generations while incorporating modern stainless steel for practical everyday performance.
The octagonal handles provide a comfortable grip for both left- and right-handed users, while the Damascus pattern ensures every knife has its own unique appearance.
They’re not simply decorative pieces.
They’re tools designed to prepare countless family meals, dinner parties and special celebrations for many years.
As someone who has worked as a professional chef for over 25 years, I’ve learned that the best knife is the one you genuinely enjoy using.
Performance is essential.
Comfort matters.
But so does the feeling you get every time you reach for it.
That’s one reason I appreciate matching knife collections.
When your knives share the same design language, your kitchen feels organised, professional and enjoyable to work in.
These Black and Red Japanese Knives deliver exactly that experience.
Final Thoughts on Black and Red Japanese Knives
Authentic Japanese knives are an investment that can be enjoyed for many years.
These two handcrafted knives combine traditional Japanese beauty with practical everyday performance.
Purchased individually, each knife offers outstanding quality.
Purchased together, they create a striking Japanese knife set whose black and red contrast makes an unforgettable impression.
Whether you’re upgrading your own kitchen or searching for a meaningful gift, this matching pair offers beauty, craftsmanship and functionality in equal measure.
If you’d like to explore these knives in more detail or discover more handcrafted Japanese knives from Tosa, visit https://asaoyayaichi.com.au.
Every knife in our collection has been carefully selected because we believe exceptional craftsmanship deserves to be used, appreciated and passed on.
The 165mm Kiritsuke Thick Deba Aogami #2 Kurouchi Walnut Octagonal Handle belongs firmly in the second category.
At first glance, its black Kurouchi finish may seem simple compared to polished Damascus blades. But beneath that traditional appearance lies one of the finest examples of Tosa craftsmanship, a style of knife making that has been refined for more than 400 years.
When many people hear the word Deba, they imagine a heavy, single-bevel knife used only by professional Japanese chefs.
A Kiritsuke Thick Deba from Tosa is different.
This knife combines the strength of a traditional thick deba with the practicality of a double-bevel edge, making it far easier for both professional chefs and passionate home cooks to use.
Whether you’re breaking down a whole fish, trimming large cuts of meat, or tackling tougher ingredients, the extra blade thickness provides confidence and durability that lighter knives simply cannot match.
For Australian cooks who enjoy preparing salmon, kingfish, tuna, snapper, grouper, or other large reef fish, this style of knife offers versatility that surprises many people.
The 165mm Kiritsuke Thick Deba is the size I recommend for most people.
It offers plenty of power for breaking down larger fish such as salmon and kingfish, while still being comfortable enough for everyday use.
For those who regularly prepare slightly smaller fish, there’s also a 150mm Kiritsuke Thick Deba Aogami #2 Kurouchi with a Walnut Octagonal Handle available.
The shorter blade feels a little more agile when working with fish like snapper, grouper, and other medium-sized species where a more compact knife offers greater control.
To be honest, I don’t think most people need to own both sizes.
For the vast majority of cooks, the 165mm is the more versatile option.
The 150mm simply provides another excellent choice if you mainly prepare smaller fish and prefer a slightly more compact knife.
The Kurouchi finish is created by leaving part of the protective scale formed during forging on the blade. Rather than polishing everything away, Tosa blacksmiths preserve part of the knife’s history.
The result is a knife that feels honest.
Nothing unnecessary.
Nothing decorative for decoration’s sake.
Just practical craftsmanship built for daily work.
Over time, the Kurouchi finish develops its own character, making every knife unique to its owner.
Knife making in Tosa traces its roots back more than four centuries to the era of the Chōsokabe Clan
Originally producing tools for forestry, farming, and daily life, Tosa’s blacksmiths built a reputation for practical, dependable blades that could withstand demanding work.
That philosophy remains unchanged today.
This knife isn’t trying to be flashy.
It’s trying to perform.
Every hammer strike, every grind, and every final sharpening reflects a tradition passed down through generations of craftsmen who value function above fashion.
When you hold this knife, you’re holding far more than steel.
You’re holding over 400 years of Tosa craftsmanship.
At Asaoya Yaichi , our goal is to introduce authentic handcrafted Tosa knives to Australia while supporting the skilled craftsmen who continue this remarkable tradition.
Every knife is carefully selected because I genuinely believe in its quality—not because it follows a trend, but because it represents the craftsmanship, reliability, and history that have defined Tosa knife making for generations.
If you’re looking for a knife with genuine history, outstanding performance, and timeless craftsmanship, I invite you to explore our collection of handcrafted Tosa knives.
When people search for Japanese knives, they often picture striking Damascus patterns, polished finishes, or eye-catching designs.
Those features certainly have their place.
But after spending more than 25 years working as a chef, I’ve come to believe that the best knife isn’t necessarily the one that attracts the most attention.
It’s the one you enjoy reaching for every single day.
A knife that feels perfectly balanced in your hand.
A knife that performs beautifully, looks elegant without being flashy, and quietly earns your trust over time.
That is the philosophy behind this collection.
In Japan, there is a word that perfectly expresses this way of thinking.
But its true meaning goes much deeper than manufacturing.
It represents the dedication of Japanese craftspeople who constantly refine their skills, pay attention to the smallest details, and never compromise on quality.
For generations, Japanese blacksmiths have passed their knowledge from one craftsman to the next.
Every knife they create reflects years of experience, patience, and pride in their work.
Rather than chasing trends, they focus on creating tools that perform beautifully and last for many years.
That philosophy is exactly what inspired this collection.
Every knife is designed to honour traditional Japanese craftsmanship while fitting naturally into today’s kitchens.
Premium VG10 Steel with a Beautiful 67-Layer Damascus Blade
Every knife in this collection is handcrafted in Japan using VG10 stainless steel and features a beautifully finished 67-layer Damascus blade.
VG10 has earned its reputation as one of Japan’s most respected stainless steels for good reason.
It offers outstanding sharpness, excellent edge retention, impressive corrosion resistance, and is much easier to maintain than traditional carbon steel.
That makes it an excellent choice for both professional chefs and passionate home cooks who want the performance of premium Japanese knives without constantly worrying about rust.
The Damascus blade isn’t simply there to create a beautiful pattern.
Each layer reflects the precision and care of Japanese craftsmanship.
The flowing lines give every knife its own unique character while maintaining the practical performance needed for everyday cooking.
Beautiful tools shouldn’t stay in a display cabinet.
They should become part of your daily routine.
If you’d like to learn more about choosing the right steel, you may also enjoy this article:
While the blade immediately catches your attention, what truly makes this collection different is the handle.
Traditional Japanese knives are often fitted with magnolia or walnut handles.
They’re beautiful and timeless.
This collection takes a different approach.
The calm green handle introduces a contemporary style while still respecting the understated beauty that Japanese craftsmanship is known for.
Rather than competing with the Damascus pattern, it complements it.
Nothing feels over-designed.
Nothing feels excessive.
The balance between blade and handle creates a knife that feels refined, comfortable, and natural in the hand.
It’s modern without losing its connection to tradition.
To me, that’s one of the most attractive features of this collection.
Another Expression of Japanese Beauty
Wabi-Sabi
Some time ago, I introduced our Wabi-Sabi collection.
That series celebrated traditional finishes, natural textures, and the quiet beauty that develops through years of use.
This collection tells a different story.
Instead of focusing entirely on traditional appearance, it combines centuries of Japanese blacksmithing with contemporary materials and thoughtful design.
It’s a different expression of Japanese craftsmanship.
Neither is better.
They’re simply different philosophies.
If you’re interested in the traditional side of Japanese knife making, you might also enjoy reading:
This collection is available in three carefully selected models.
Santoku
The Santoku is one of Japan’s most versatile kitchen knives.
Whether you’re preparing vegetables, slicing meat, or cutting fish, it’s designed to handle everyday cooking with ease.
Its balanced size makes it an excellent choice for home cooks looking for a single knife that can do almost everything.
Gyuto
The Gyuto is Japan’s answer to the Western chef’s knife.
Its longer blade offers greater versatility when working with larger vegetables, meat, and fish while maintaining the precision that Japanese knives are known for.
If you enjoy preparing a wide variety of ingredients, the Gyuto quickly becomes one of the most useful knives in the kitchen.
Petty
The Petty knife is designed for precision.
From peeling fruit and vegetables to trimming meat or preparing garnishes, it provides complete control for delicate work that larger knives simply can’t match.
Although it’s the smallest knife in the collection, many chefs consider it one of the most frequently used.
Each knife has its own purpose.
Together, they create a collection capable of handling almost every task in the kitchen.
Because every knife shares the same premium VG10 steel, beautifully finished 67-layer Damascus blade, and distinctive green handle, they work together not only in performance but also in appearance.
Why I Recommend Building the Complete Collection
Many people begin by purchasing a single Japanese knife.
That’s exactly what I would recommend if you’re just starting your journey.
However, once you experience the quality of a handcrafted knife, it’s easy to understand why so many people gradually build a complete collection.
Having the right knife for each task makes cooking smoother, more enjoyable, and more efficient.
The Santoku becomes your everyday companion.
The Gyuto handles larger ingredients with confidence.
The Petty takes care of all the finer details.
Instead of asking one knife to do every job, each knife performs the task it was designed for.
As a result, not only does cooking become easier, but your knives also stay in better condition because each blade is used appropriately.
My Experience After More Than 25 Years as a Chef
Having worked as a chef for more than 25 years, I’ve noticed something that many people don’t think about until they experience it themselves.
When your knives all belong to the same collection, people notice.
In professional kitchens, fellow chefs often comment on how clean and professional a matching set looks.
It’s not unusual for someone to walk past and say,
“Those knives look great together.”
I’ve also spent many years working at sushi counters where customers can clearly see the knives being used.
Interestingly, customers notice them too.
I’ve had guests compliment the appearance of a matching set before they’ve even tasted the food.
Of course, beautiful knives don’t make someone a better chef.
Skill, experience, and technique will always be far more important.
But presentation matters.
Just as chefs take pride in wearing a clean uniform and maintaining an organised workstation, using knives from the same collection creates a sense of consistency and professionalism.
It reflects the respect we have for our craft.
That’s one of the reasons I personally enjoy using knives from the same series whenever possible.
Not because they match.
But because together they create a workspace that feels organised, intentional, and enjoyable to work in every day.
For me, that’s another reason why I often recommend building a complete Japanese knife set rather than collecting individual knives from different collections.
It’s something I’ve genuinely appreciated throughout my career, and I believe many passionate home cooks will appreciate it too.
More Than Just a Knife
A yanagiba knife that has been used for 40 years
After more than 25 years as a chef, I’ve come to realise that a great knife is far more than just a cutting tool.
It’s something you rely on every day.
It becomes part of the way you cook, the way you work, and even the way you present yourself as a chef.
The longer you use a well-made knife, the more you appreciate the skill, experience, and dedication that went into creating it.
That’s exactly what Monozukuri is all about.
It’s not simply making products.
It’s about creating something with care, purpose, and pride—something designed to be used and appreciated for many years.
Every handcrafted knife in this collection reflects that philosophy.
At Asaoya Yaichi, our goal has never been to offer the largest selection of Japanese knives.
Instead, we carefully select knives that we genuinely believe in.
As someone who has spent over two decades working in professional kitchens, I understand how important it is to trust the tools you use every day.
That’s why every knife we offer is chosen not only for its appearance, but also for its performance, durability, and the craftsmanship behind it.
We want to introduce authentic handcrafted Japanese knives that you’ll enjoy using for many years—not simply because they’re beautiful, but because they earn their place in your kitchen every time you cook.
Continue Exploring Japanese Knives
If you’d like to learn more about authentic Japanese knives, you may also enjoy these articles:
If you’re looking for handcrafted VG10 Damascus Japanese knives that combine traditional Japanese craftsmanship with thoughtful modern design, we invite you to explore this collection.
Whether you choose the Santoku, Gyuto, Petty, or the complete Japanese knife set, you’ll be investing in knives that were created to perform beautifully for years to come.
More importantly, you’ll experience a small part of the philosophy that has guided Japanese craftspeople for generations.
As both a chef and the founder of Asaoya Yaichi, I hope these knives bring you the same enjoyment and confidence they’ve brought me throughout my career.
Many handcrafted Japanese knives are made from high-carbon steel, such as Aogami (Blue Steel) or Shirogami (White Steel).
These steels are loved by professional chefs because they offer exceptional sharpness, excellent edge retention, and are easier to sharpen than many stainless steels.
The trade-off is that carbon steel reacts more easily with moisture and acidic foods, so it can develop rust if left wet.
My Own Experience
I learned this the hard way.
Even after rinsing my knife with water, I once left it sitting for a while after cutting citrus fruit.
When I came back, small spots of rust had already started to appear.
It wasn’t because the knife was poorly made.
It was because the acid from the citrus remained on the blade long enough to react with the carbon steel.
Since then, I’ve made it a habit to wash my knives, dry them immediately, and never leave them sitting wet.
If storing the knife for an extended period, apply a thin coat of camellia oil (tsubaki oil), which has traditionally been used in Japan to protect carbon steel from rust. If you don’t have camellia oil, a small amount of food-grade cooking oil can also be used as a temporary alternative.
What If Rust Already Appears?
Don’t panic if you notice rust on your knife.
In many cases, light surface rust can be removed before it causes any serious damage.
Depending on the severity of the rust, you may be able to remove it by:
Sharpening the blade on a whetstone.
Gently polishing the affected area with fine-grit sandpaper.
Using a rust eraser designed for knives and tools, such as products commonly known in Japan as Sabitoru.
The most important thing is to deal with rust as soon as you notice it. The longer rust remains on the blade, the more difficult it can become to remove.
One of the best ways to keep a carbon steel knife in excellent condition is to prevent rust from forming in the first place.
Once rust starts to develop, the affected areas can become more susceptible to rusting again if they are not properly cleaned and protected.
That’s why it’s best to care for your knife from the day you buy it. Keeping the blade clean and dry from the beginning is the easiest way to maintain both its appearance and its cutting performance for years to come.
As with most knife care, prevention is always easier than restoration.
Carbon steel knives aren’t difficult to own—they’re simply different.
Once you understand how to care for them, you’ll see why so many professional chefs continue to choose carbon steel over stainless steel.
However, if you’re not confident that you’ll be able to give a carbon steel knife the care it needs, there’s nothing wrong with choosing a stainless steel knife instead.
A knife that suits your lifestyle is always a better choice than one that causes unnecessary stress.
At Asaoya Yaichi, we proudly offer authentic handcrafted Tosa knives made by skilled Japanese craftspeople, including both carbon steel and stainless steel options.
If you’re looking for an authentic Japanese knife, we’d be happy to help you find the one that’s right for you.
When a knife does not become as sharp as expected, many people assume the problem is their technique or the knife itself.
But sometimes, the real problem is the whetstone.
As a whetstone is used, its surface gradually wears down. Because we often sharpen in the same area, the centre can become hollow. Flattening restores the stone to an even surface so the blade can make consistent contact while sharpening.
What Happens When the Stone Is Not Flat?
Sharpening on a hollow whetstone can make it difficult to maintain a consistent angle.
The blade may still become sharp enough to cut, but the bevel can become uneven. It may also be difficult to raise an even burr along the entire edge, and over time the shape of the blade may be affected.
This is something I learned through experience.
A Lesson From My Early Years as a Chef
When I first became a chef, I used a whetstone that was kept at the restaurant.
It had not been flattened and was already noticeably hollow. At the time, I did not understand why that mattered.
My knives became sharp enough to use, so I continued sharpening on that same stone for around two years.
Later, while visiting Japan, I took one of my knives back to the shop where I had bought it in Kappabashi and asked them to sharpen it.
The person looked at the knife and said:
“This is no good.”
He laughed dismissively, but did not explain what was wrong, why it had happened, or how I could correct it.
I will not name the shop. However, I never bought another knife from them.
I accept that my sharpening was not good. But beginners cannot improve when they are only criticised and given no explanation.
How Often Should You Flatten a Whetstone?
There is no single rule.
It depends on how often you sharpen, the hardness of the stone and the amount of pressure you use.
Some people flatten their stone before every sharpening session. Others check it after sharpening several knives.
The important thing is to inspect the surface regularly and flatten it before the hollow becomes too deep.
At the moment, Asaoya Yaichi does not offer a professional sharpening service, and I do not pretend to be a sharpening specialist.
However, I do want to treat customers differently from the way I was treated.
People should not be made to feel embarrassed because they are beginners or because they have made a mistake. I made plenty of mistakes myself, including sharpening on an unflattened whetstone for two years.
When possible, I want to explain:
What has gone wrong
Why it matters
What can be done next
Selling a knife should not be the end of the relationship.
Good information and simple maintenance can help a well-made knife remain part of someone’s kitchen for many years.
At Asaoya Yaichi, we offer handcrafted Tosa knives made by skilled Japanese craftspeople.
Whether you are buying your first Japanese knife or adding to your collection, proper sharpening and whetstone maintenance will help it perform at its best.
Explore our collection of authentic handcrafted Tosa knives.
One small detail that many people overlook is the buffalo horn ferrule (the black section between the blade and the wooden handle).
Besides giving the knife a traditional Japanese appearance, it is durable and easy to maintain.
The only trade-off is that it adds a little extra weight compared to an all-wood handle.
Personally, I still prefer lighter wooden handles, but I can certainly understand why many people appreciate the buffalo horn option for its durability and premium look.
There really isn’t a right or wrong choice—it simply depends on what feels best in your hand.
During my visit, I also learned that special handle materials are available through custom orders.
So if you’re looking for something truly personal or distinctive, there may be more options beyond the standard lineup.
Custom handles can make a handcrafted Japanese knife even more unique, creating a knife that reflects your own style as well as the craftsmanship behind it.
My Advice After 25 Years as a Chef
If you’re buying your first Japanese knife, don’t choose based only on the steel.
Hold the knife if you can.
Pay attention to:
Weight
Balance
Shape
Handle material
A knife should feel like a natural extension of your hand.
Sometimes, changing the handle can make a bigger difference than changing the steel.
At Asaoya Yaichi, we work directly with Ishizuchi Kanamono Seisakusho to bring authentic handcrafted Tosa knives to Australia.
Whether you prefer a traditional magnolia handle, walnut, rosewood, or are interested in discussing a custom option, we’re happy to help you find a knife that suits both your cooking style and your hands.
Because the perfect Japanese knife isn’t only about how it cuts—it’s also about how it feels every time you pick it up.
Explore our collection at www.asaoyayaichi.com.au and discover handcrafted Japanese knives made to be used and appreciated for many years.
If you’ve spent any time researching Japanese knives online, you’ve probably heard the same warnings.
“They rust.” “They chip easily.” “They’re only for professional chefs.”
After more than 25 years working as a chef in both Japan and Australia, I’ve learned that while there’s some truth behind these statements, they’re often misunderstood.
But in my experience, rust usually happens because a knife is left wet or dirty for too long.
With basic care, a carbon steel knife can last for decades.
I still regularly use a Yanagiba knife that’s around 40 years old. It has been part of my cooking journey for over 20 years, and it continues to perform beautifully.
Good care—not constant worry—is what makes a knife last.
Myth 3 – They’re Only for Professional Chefs
This is probably the biggest misconception.
Professional chefs certainly appreciate the performance of Japanese knives, but they’re far from the only people who buy them.
During my visits to Ishizuchi Kanamono Seisakusho, a long-established knife wholesaler based in Ehime Prefecture that works closely with Tosa blacksmiths, I was told something that surprised me.
Most international visitors who purchase Japanese knives from places like Kappabashi in Tokyo aren’t professional chefs at all.
Many are home cooks who simply enjoy preparing food, while others buy them because they admire Japanese craftsmanship and want to own something made by skilled artisans.
I was also told that Santoku and Sujihiki knives are among the most popular choices for international customers.
That makes perfect sense.
A Santoku is an excellent all-purpose knife for everyday cooking, while a Sujihiki is ideal for slicing meat and fish cleanly and precisely.
Their popularity shows that Japanese knives aren’t just professional tools—they’re practical, enjoyable to use, and appreciated by people who simply love cooking.
Myth 4 – They Chip Too Easily
Any hard steel knife can chip if it’s used incorrectly.
Frozen food, bones, twisting the blade, or using glass cutting boards can damage almost any premium knife.
However, one of the reasons I enjoy recommending handcrafted Tosa knives is their practical, durable design.
In my own kitchen, I’ve used a Tosa Gyuto to remove the heads of large fish such as salmon and yellowtail without experiencing edge chipping.
That doesn’t mean I recommend using a Gyuto as a substitute for a Deba knife, and no knife is completely immune to damage if misused.
But that real-world experience has given me tremendous confidence in the durability of well-made Tosa knives.
For many home cooks, that extra toughness provides valuable peace of mind without sacrificing the outstanding cutting performance that Japanese knives are known for.
What Really Matters
The best Japanese knife isn’t necessarily the most expensive one.
It’s the one that suits your cooking style, feels comfortable in your hand, and makes you want to cook more often.
After more than 25 years as a chef, that’s the lesson I value most.
A great knife should make cooking more enjoyable—not more intimidating.
If you’ve always wanted to own a handcrafted Japanese knife but thought they were too delicate or too difficult to maintain, I hope this article has changed your perspective.
At Asaoya Yaichi, we carefully select handcrafted Tosa knives made by skilled Japanese blacksmiths—knives that are built not only for exceptional sharpness, but also for real everyday use.
Whether you’re a professional chef or buying your very first Japanese knife, there’s a knife that can become a trusted part of your kitchen for years to come.
Explore our collection of authentic handcrafted Tosa knives and discover the difference for yourself.
Japanese knives are often described as delicate or difficult to maintain.
From my experience, that’s not true.
After more than 25 years working as a chef in both Japan and Australia, I’ve found that most damage doesn’t happen while you’re cooking—it happens afterwards.
Rust, cracked handles, warped blades, and unnecessary repairs are often the result of a few simple habits that are easy to avoid.
Here are the five most common mistakes I’ve seen over the years, including a few I’ve learned from my own experience.
1. Leaving the Knife Wet After Use
If I had to choose the biggest cause of rust, this would be it.
After cooking, it’s easy to leave a knife on the cutting board or beside the sink while cleaning up.
Unfortunately, even a short period of moisture combined with food residue can start the rusting process.
Carbon steel is especially vulnerable, but stainless steel isn’t completely immune either.
A simple routine makes all the difference:
Wash the knife soon after use.
Dry it thoroughly.
Store it somewhere dry.
Those extra 30 seconds can add years to your knife’s life.
2. Only Rinsing the Knife After Cutting Citrus Fruits
Most people know that citrus fruits such as lemons and limes can affect a knife because of their acidity.
What I’ve personally experienced, however, is that simply rinsing the blade with water isn’t always enough.
I have rusted a knife myself after cutting citrus and only washing it with water.
Acid and juice can remain on the blade, especially near the edge, the heel, or where the blade meets the handle.
After cutting citrus, I always recommend:
Wash the knife properly with mild dishwashing liquid.
Rinse with clean water.
Dry it immediately and completely.
It’s a small habit that can prevent unnecessary rust.
3. Ignoring Small Rust Spots
Small rust spots are much easier to deal with than deep rust.
Once rust starts penetrating into the steel, removing it becomes much more difficult and time-consuming.
I’ve learned that preventing rust is always easier than restoring a damaged blade.
If you notice rust beginning to form, don’t leave it for another day.
Deal with it early.
Your knife will thank you for it.
4. Washing the Knife with Very Hot Water
Many people know not to use a dishwasher.
What isn’t discussed as often is washing a knife by hand with very hot water.
In my experience, repeatedly exposing a knife to very hot water can shorten its lifespan.
The blade can be placed under unnecessary stress from repeated temperature changes, while the wooden handle suffers even more.
Over time, excessive heat can cause the handle to:
Dry out
Expand and contract repeatedly
Develop small cracks
Split
Loosen around the tang
Eventually begin to rot from moisture entering through damaged areas
Once a wooden handle starts cracking, water and food residue can work their way inside, making it more difficult to keep clean and shortening the life of the handle.
Warm water is all you need.
Wash the knife quickly, dry both the blade and the handle immediately, and avoid soaking it.
5. Putting the Knife in the Dishwasher
This is probably the most well-known mistake, but it’s still worth mentioning.
Dishwashers expose knives to:
High temperatures
Strong detergents
Long periods of moisture
Contact with other utensils
These conditions can damage both the blade and the wooden handle.
Even if no damage is visible after one cycle, repeated dishwasher use can significantly shorten the knife’s lifespan.
A handcrafted Japanese knife deserves to be washed by hand.
Fortunately, that only takes a minute.
Japanese Knives Aren’t Difficult to Maintain
One of the biggest misconceptions is that Japanese knives require complicated maintenance.
In reality, they don’t.
Simply remember to:
Wash the knife soon after use.
Don’t leave it wet.
Properly wash it after cutting citrus fruits.
Remove rust before it becomes serious.
Avoid very hot water.
Never use a dishwasher.
Dry both the blade and the wooden handle thoroughly.
None of these steps are difficult.
They simply become good habits.
Final Thoughts
After more than 25 years in professional kitchens, I’ve learned that good knife care isn’t about doing something special.
It’s about avoiding a few simple mistakes.
The difference between a knife that lasts five years and one that lasts several decades often comes down to daily habits.
I still own a knife that has been in my family for over 40 years.
The reason it’s still in use today isn’t because it received special treatment.
It’s because someone took the time to wash it, dry it, and care for it properly after every use.
If you do the same, a quality Japanese knife can reward you with many years of reliable service.
To be completely honest, I don’t fully sharpen my knives every day.
In my own routine, I usually do a proper sharpening on a 1000-grit whetstone about once a week.
During service, if I feel the edge beginning to lose its bite, I’ll often touch it up lightly on a 6000-grit finishing stone to keep the knife performing consistently until my next full sharpening.
That approach has worked well for me throughout many years in professional kitchens.
One lesson I’ve learned throughout my career is that there is no single “correct” way to care for a Japanese knife.
Different chefs have different routines.
Different kitchens have different demands.
What matters most is finding a routine that keeps your knife performing well and encourages you to enjoy using it.
A well-maintained Japanese knife isn’t about chasing perfection.
It’s about building a relationship with a tool that can serve you for many years.
Looking for a Japanese knife worth caring for?
At Asaoya Yaichi, we carefully select authentic handcrafted Tosa knives made by skilled Japanese blacksmiths.
Whether you’re buying your first Japanese knife or adding to an existing collection, our goal is to help you find a knife you’ll enjoy using—and maintaining—for years to come.
As I learned more about Ishizuchi Kanamono Seisakusho, I realised that their story reflected the very philosophy I had begun to appreciate.
Their history dates back more than one hundred years to the early Taisho era, when the company began as Ishizuchi Agricultural Machinery.
Its purpose was simple: to provide dependable tools for people whose livelihoods depended on them.
Farmers.
Foresters.
Fishermen.
People who worked with their hands every day.
As Japan changed, so did the company.
Today, Ishizuchi Kanamono Seisakusho works alongside traditional Tosa blacksmiths, helping preserve generations of craftsmanship while introducing authentic Tosa knives to people around the world.
That story resonated deeply with me.
These knives were never created simply to impress someone in a showroom.
They were created to be used.
Maintained.
Sharpened.
Trusted.
Perhaps that is why my opinion changed so dramatically.
I had been judging these knives by how they looked.
Instead, I should have judged them by how they lived.
That simple realisation changed the way I looked at Tosa knives forever.
It is also the reason Asaoya Yaichi exists today.
Not simply to sell handcrafted knives.
But to introduce the people, traditions and craftsmanship behind every blade, ensuring that the remarkable spirit of Tosa continues to be appreciated by future generations.
If this story has sparked your curiosity, I warmly invite you to explore our collection of authentic handcrafted Tosa knives.
Explore Our Collection
If this story has sparked your curiosity, I’d be honoured to welcome you to Asaoya Yaichi.
Every knife in our collection is carefully sourced through Ishizuchi Kanamono Seisakusho and handcrafted by traditional blacksmiths in Tosa, Japan.
These are not simply knives to own.
They are knives to use, maintain, sharpen and grow with over a lifetime.
In Part 2 – A Knife That Grows With You, I’ll share why I believe the finest handcrafted knives are never truly finished when they leave the blacksmith, but continue to grow alongside the people who use them.
