The cleaver is the center of every Chinese household kitchen. When you pick up the wooden handle, you feel the weight of the hefty square-shaped blade. It’s usually paired with a thick wooden or bamboo chopping board. I felt very intimidated when I first lifted one. I challenged myself with making a simple burdock, carrot, celery dish but it required cutting precise thin strips. I soon realized it was a recipe for disaster for someone who does not cook often.
I have seen my uncle, a trained chef, quickly chop chop with great speed and precision with impeccable thin slices or finely chopped garlic that looked effortless. I felt the weight of the handle and blade with my wrist caving in. It was a sign of weakness and I had not built this muscle. I remembered I had to bend my left hand fingers slightly in and have the knuckles lean into the blade so that you’d protect your fingers when chopping quickly. My left fingers also helped push the root vegetables forward to keep the momentum coming. However, I didn’t dare to chop too quickly. I clumsily did a slow chop chop and that resulted in thick carrot strips.
After chopping a few carrots, celery, and burdock sticks, my right hand was sore and started to shake. I started to doubt if it is worth making this seemingly simple dish. My mother mocked how weak my arm was or how slow I was or how many dishes I used just to make one dish. My dad and mom would both make light of their cleaver accidents and the scars and knicks served as battle wounds. Just last week I had to run to find band-aids from the cupboard because she accidentally cut her thumb and blood was gushing out. Then I poured out some of this Chinese powder called Yunnan medicine that they swear by. I have to say it is very effective in stopping bleeding quickly and helps wounds close up.
Witnessing such cleaver accidents just makes it seem more scary to me unless there is a way of mastering the cleaver without cutting myself. Everyday is a test because my mom likes to casually place the cleaver in the dish rack either blade up or in a precarious way that invites injury. Reminding her to place it blade down or away from traffic often triggers a scoff from her. The cleaver in my household is a divisive and dangerous tool that I’ll just admire from afar.
Travelogue 