Knife Shopping With Jess Ho.
“So these owners build up a successful restaurant, right? And then they sell it to some clueless idiots, the idiots haemorrhage money for the next couple of years, then the ex-owners buy it back cheap, put up a 'new management' sign, and repeat.”
When I say 'chef knives', what comes to mind?
Whatever your answer is, whatever brand you have in mind, shape, and size, I call marketing BS. Before television, cooking shows, and magazines, we'd never heard of Wustoff, Shun, Global. Think back, before some Eater or Bon Appétit editors brainwashed you about gyutou, santoku, pairing knives, Damascus steel etc., when you hear the words 'chef' and 'knife' what do you really remember?
It’s the Chinese cleaver.
If you don't have childhood memories of a balding guy with a pot belly in an apron smacking a chicken breast into a pancake, breaking bones, while also thinly slicing cucumber, garlic and chilis with the same knife on a chopping board as thick as a telephone book, are you even Asian?
You know it's true.
We never actually dreamed of owning a German of Japanese knife.
It's always the cleaver, the one that stops bullets.
Thing is, I'm afraid of the Chinese cleaver. Not skilled enough, not strong enough, not savvy enough to know if I bought a 'forever' Chinese cleaver, or a victim of an Alibaba scam.
I'm also afraid of Jess Ho.
If you've read Jess' book, then you know why.
Previously the editor of Time Out, toured large-scale wine events, presenter of all food-related festivals, judge of a network food show, bar owner, ghostwriter, Jess is a gatekeeper.
The face of Chin Chin when it opened, Jess was literally the gatekeeper, deciding how comfortable you were based on your vibe.
Jess is everywhere. Every time I see a new place, something funny on Instagram, followed by thatdamnjessho, liked by thatdamnjessho.
I don't even know when Jess followed my account, that's how stealthy Jess is.
It wasn't until Jess replied to my story, the one I used a pot as a sandwich presser (use mortar instead), then I realised oh thatdamnjessho was that damn Jess Ho; not an auntie baking bread. (During COVID Jess’ feed was no different to a bread-baking auntie.)
Jess shared the $150 fish weight with me (WTF is this). And I'd forward Jess Japanese cookbooks by white authors in bookshop. (WTF is THIS.)
We said to catch up for coffee one day, and six months later, we gave each other one month's notice (after the book tour and Melbourne Food and Wine Festival and writers festival and all the celebrity stuff) and finally, we were going to have lunch in Richmond.
Like Pacific House Richmond? I texted.
“Nah they suck. Chu The, Co Thu Quan, Thien Nga, Tom Toon or Thanh Ha 2.”
I've been to Chu The, I'm intrigued by the standout Thai in the Viet Viet Thai Viet lineup that's not Jinda.
“The other two Viet is very distinct. One Soc Trang, one Hanoi.”
AARGH.
"How about we let the weather decide."
And the weather determined that on a Wednesday, most restaurants on the list were closed.
Co Thu Quan became Thien Nga became Thanh Ha 2.
"Five minutes behind," Jess texted.
Remember how I say I never know which brand of Chinese cleaver to buy? Fuchsia Dunlop recommended Chan Chee Kee (CCK) on her insta ages ago (also liked by thatdamnjessho), and through research, I discovered that Chef Land stocks CCK knives.
So when I saw Jess’ text, I was comparing the three knives on display - the carbon steel, the stainless steel, and the bone breaker.
I'll come back and deal with this later, I said to myself.
Jess was sitting facing the door, back against the bathroom, the boss seat. Claiming to be late, only to be on time, the boss move.
I'm afraid of Jess because Jess knows Muay Thai, and have been admitted into the Austin hospital psych ward when as a teenager. (It's all in the book, fun read.) Some friend of friends mentioned 'Jess Ho is woke AF' followed by 'you didn't hear it from me.'
We ordered Bánh cuốn (steamed rice paper cake), Bánh Khọt (mini pancake with prawn), and broken rice. Guess who’s the foreigner here.
The first time you meet a person, you always try to fit the person into a tangent you're familiar with.
For example, Jess said I'm like Cam (not real name), a friend who's also ex-advertising, photographer, but Cam went on to successfully run a cafe, and unsuccessfully operate a restaurant.
Meanwhile, my first remark to Jess was “you have more hair than I expected!”(If you've already image-searched Jess Ho, you'd understand.)
My social circle isn't as wide as Jess, so my tangent are all fictional characters. Jess reminded me of the scary sister of Muad'Dib in Dune, the piercing eyes the little psychic girl from Akira, the short blonde hair a young Anita Mui.
Honestly, Jess reminds me a lot of myself. The way Jess talked was like a narration of my brain. It's not surprising, seeing that we're both lurkers on Reddit. The language, thought process, and cynicism seep into our consciousness.
Having read Jess' book, I feel like I've seen Jess naked, that didn't stop me from asking some really basic questions. Like, 'how do you get good at writing', 'how do you manage to be so knowledgeable in wine', and 'do I need a Coravin?'
In the most kindest way possible, Jess' told me to "be better and don't suck."
Read a lot. (Read a lot? That's my advice to other noobs!)
And no, unless you're operating a restaurant, which you sell wine by the glass, you do not need a Coravin bottle opener.
Jess and I are also very different.
I don't drink, or should I say, no one has seen me drunk because I'm slightly allergic to alcohol. (Expensive wine and sake, I’m alright.)
Whereas Jess has a whole chapter about alcohol abuse in the book.
I'd like to think we've both seen the food world from behind the two-way mirror, just that Jess was living it, and I was photographing it.
"Fuck me!"
I did not expect to be the first person to swear, but when I found out Jess' age (hint: much younger than me) and has accomplished more, what else could I say?
Jess twitched when I mentioned restaurants I’ve seen which didn't run numbers before starting a restaurant. Jess was annoyed by the loud slurp from the guy on the next table.
In my mind it was supposed to be a 90-minute lunch, but we stayed until my parking was almost up.
I asked Jess to come and pick a knife for me.
Jess wanted to look for this peanut cookie recommended by this hot shot chef friend from a hot shot restaurant. In the end, it was just a basic peanut cookie for Chinese New Year.
You can make this.
“Yea I can,” said Jess.
I showed Jess the bone-breaking knife I wanted to get.
“Oh, it's not as heavy as I thought. Look, it's really up to you. I'd go with something lighter, but that's because I'm tiny compared to you,” said Jess.
I wanted a bone-breaking knife so I insisted on the big knife.
We spent another fifteen minutes or so browsing the Chef Hat of the East.
“Look at this giant whisk, what are you whisking?”
“Ah, the serving bowl of Dainty Sichuan.”
“Do I really need a dumpling rolling pin? Yes, no, no I don't.”
As I said, a narration of my brain.
The biggest difference between Jess and I, are work ethics.
Jess is busy, writing from nine to five.
“I took today off just to hang out with you,” said Jess.
Bar owner turn writer. It dawned on me in the aisle with all the plastic containers that Jess is basically Haruki Murakami.
“Next time I'll come to North Melbourne side. Are you team Myth or team CC Wok?” Asked Jess.
Neither. I like M Yong Tofu. My wife used to like the asam laksa from CC Wok but they are getting inconsistent. Do you feel like it’s been watered down?
"Yea, I know right?"
Wait, did Jess say next time?
I waited a month to write about this, because it was surreal, like my morning coffee with Jennifer Wong.
There was no photo evidence - I was too afraid to ask, so you have to take my word for it.
The Jess Ho I had lunch with was not the Jess Ho I saw on the news, imagined from the book.
The next day, I went back to exchange the knife.
On second thought the lighter stainless steel one is what I need. Who needs to break bones anyway?
It's taken some time to get used to, but when I’m chopping garlic and carrots nowadays, it sounds really pleasant.
Like a childhood memory.