In a professional brigade, hierarchy is everything. Precision is everything. And above all, the paring knife is sacred.

The very first lesson in any serious kitchen is this: the couteau d’office is the cook’s most precious tool. It is the instrument that never leaves your side, the blade that performs the quiet, relentless choreography of peeling, trimming, turning, scoring. Before the grand gestures of service, before the spectacle of plating, there is this small blade—and the discipline it demands.

Hygiene, of course, is non-negotiable. In that environment, a folding knife is an indulgence the brigade cannot afford. A fixed blade is imperative—clean lines, no hidden cavities, nothing that compromises sanitation. Form follows function, and function follows rigor.

Yet the realities of service introduce their own hazards. A paring knife can disappear in an instant—swept toward the bin with a cascade of peelings, or carelessly dropped into a drawer where other blades wait to bruise its edge. In a kitchen moving at full tempo, neglect is not malicious; it is simply inevitable.

The solution is as elegant as it is practical: keep the blade on you. Always. Within reach. Around the neck, suspended discreetly yet ready in a heartbeat. Thus was born the idea of a refined thin neck knife—an ultra-thin, fixed blade forged in chrome-vanadium steel, equivalent in spirit and performance to Nitrum from Arcos. Fine-grained, corrosion-resistant, responsive to sharpening, it offers the clean bite and resilience demanded by daily service.

On the right is her brother AKA the Tactical Parking Knife reviewed here.

This is not a novelty. It is a working instrument—one now worn by internationally renowned chefs, among them the celebrated Alain Ducasse, who commissioned several for his own use. In kitchens where standards are uncompromising and reputations global, tools are chosen not for ornament but for excellence.

And excellence is precisely what defines Patrick Bonetta. Perfectionist by philosophy, the house approaches finishing and ergonomics with almost obsessive care. The balance is intuitive. The Birdy’s grip—secure without fatigue. The transitions between handle and blade—flawless. Nothing is left unresolved.

The result is “Birdy”, a paring knife elevated to high craft: a lil’marvel of proportion and purpose. In the kitchen, it slices, peels, and minces with fluid authority. It becomes an extension of the hand, a silent accomplice to high precision cuts… or not. 😉

True luxury in gastronomy is not spectacle. It is control.
And control begins with the right blade.

–– The two last photo (c)Patrick Bonetta —