The onion: round, layered, strong, complex.
The knife: sharp, direct, straight, cutting.
How are the two to get along?
I cut the onion in half. A cross-section is two-dimensional and incomplete. The knife sees no other way. It is, itself, mostly understood from
a two-dimensional perspective.
I slice the half-onion into thin half-moons.
Then I chop down perpendicular to those cuts. Cutting away, I am
dissatisfied by the knife’s inability to acknowledge the roundness
of this allium. The diced pieces are not square as the knife would
like them to be. They cannot be, because the onion is essentially
round. If the onion was a square form, and its layers neatly
stacked… my knife and its chopping would yield symmetrical, even
cubes.
But the onion is round, layered, strong and complex. These
qualities cannot ever be denied, only ignored when we take the
knife to the onion and attempt a grid-like chopping pattern.
The sharp, phallic tool and the round layered fruit. How are they to
exist in mutual harmony? Should the knife be, perhaps, reformed so that its cuts reflect the natural inclinations of the onion? Should the
onion be cut forever in a way that ignores its essential round complexity?
I don’t know. But what is certain is that no matter how they meet, a knife with an onion can lead to an endless variety of delicious soups and
stews.