I didn't grow up in a forge. I grew up watching my grandfather sharpen the same three knives for forty years, and wondering why he never seemed to need a fourth. That question eventually took me to Sakai, Japan, where blacksmiths have shaped steel for over six hundred years. I spent three years there learning one simple thing: a blade isn't finished when it's sharp, it's finished when it disappears in your hand. That's what I set out to build with Akito.

Every Akito knife is still hand-finished in small batches, tested by hand before it ever ships. I'm not chasing scale, I'm chasing the feeling of that first cut. This is the founding collection, made the way I was taught it should be made — and I'd genuinely love for it to be in your kitchen.

After years at the forge, I've made the difficult decision to close this chapter. What remains is the last of the founding collection — the final batches, made the way I was taught, before the forge goes quiet for good. This isn't an easy goodbye, but I'm grateful to everyone who let one of these knives find a place in their kitchen. I hope yours stays with you for a long time.