An Important Safety Message from the Little B

Friends, if I can impart one piece of cooking knowledge from my novice repertoire, let it be this: Always keep your kitchen knives sharp.

If you don't, picture the scene: You may be planning to make yourself a magnificent feast of espinicas con garbanzos on your second full night home after a long trip. You may be planning an evening of Spanish food, red wine, and catching up on past episodes of Mad Men for yourself. There you'll be in your tiny kitchen, happily slicing bread with the serrated knife that your mother got you at Home Goods and probably cost less than the bread itself, when it will (because it isn't sharp) snag on the crusty bread, jump, and slice your left index finger through the fingernail and to depths that you weren't sure existed in your left index finger. And then you will feel faint and bleed and call your boyfriend in near-hysterics because you are certain, certain, that you will have to spend the rest of the night at GW Hospital awaiting stitches. You are alone in your apartment and you may die of sepsis.

(You won't.)

However! Espinicas con garbanzos will forever be tainted for you. Especially because they turn out to be not so delicious and certainly not worth nearly losing an appendage over.

This has been an important safety message from the Little B. The above story is fiction* and any resemblance it has to real life is purely coincidental.

* It's not fiction. My finger hurts.
** No, seriously, don't use dull knives.