I have to wonder if any of those guys who are big name longtime knife designers — Ken Onion and Mike Walker and Grant Hawk and all the rest of them — ever reach the point in this gig where they feel there's nothing new to learn and nowhere to grow, and it all just becomes another day at the office. If so, I certainly hope that never happens to me. At the time being it feels like I'm always learning something, and every step on this journey is a new little degree of excitement as I gain the capability to do one more thing.
So it is with this, which I've stuck a feather in my cap and called the Macaroni.
The Macaroni was born one day as I was considering the offcuts of material left over from producing the first two of my (much) larger Emperors and, if we're honest, out of the desire not to waste several dollars' worth of otherwise perfectly good steel. It would be incorrect to say that I had any kind of bold vision, but I did have an idea which eventually turned into a plan.
That idea was the method of producing this sweeping radiused Scandi style grind, which if I may be allowed to indulge myself by yanking my own cordon de sonnette for a bit, I'm really rather fond of.
The Macaroni is a truly diminutive fixed blade knife that stretches the charitability of anyone's definition of a bushcraft knife to its absolute limit. Given that this is hand made there is some variation from piece to piece, but the example on my desk is only 3.387 inches long (or 86.03mm if you prefer). The accuracy of this figure may have tipped you off to the fact that, yes, this is so compact I can comfortably fit it completely within the span of my little digital calipers. The blade is 1.749" long (44.43mm) measured from the forward end of the handle scale to the point, with cutting edge that measures at 1.743" (44.27mm) from corner to corner. All of that edge is highly usable thanks to the deeply arced and upswept profile.
But, due to being made out of the same steel stock as my tree trunk splitting, bear mauling Emperor bushcraft knife, it's also a full quarter of an inch thick. This is exactly as awesome, or perhaps absurd, as you would hope.
This temps me to, well, tempt fate by suggesting that the phenomenal thickness combined with short stature of the Macaroni combine to make it functionally indestructible. Leverage is key, here; It's easy to snap a stick that's three feet long over your knee but an awful lot harder to do the same to one that's only three inches.
The Macaroni's Scandi grind bevel is a single flat grind at 14° per side which tapers from the root all the way to the edge, which terminates in a mirror polished, 2000 grit micro-bevel. Thusly it has much, much more cutting power than you would expect. It'll bite damn near anything, a fact which I can attest to because the other day when I was buffing up the surface of one of these with my shirttails as you do, I put a slice clean through my shirt without even noticing. It was a shirt I kind of liked, too, dang it.
Keeping the textile industry in business is obviously not the Macaroni's primary function. With the best will in the world it'd doubtful you'll be splitting much firewood with this, either. But it'd make a dandy whittling knife, for instance, and serve as a very stout small utility knife for jobs you might ordinarily do with your folder. Only minus the folding part.
In what's rapidly becoming a tradition, the handle scales for this are 3D printed. For impact resistance as well as heat tolerance I made them out of solid ABS. These are mounted with my now apparently signature hollow handle bolts, through which you can handily pass a piece of 3mm or 4mm cord, and just barely (possibly with the aid of a toothpick or something) fit 550 paracord. Thus is follows that, unlike an alarming number of fixed blade knives these days, you can dismount the scales should you ever have a reason to. Cleaning, replacement, swapping with other colors, or what have you. At the moment it's any color you like as long as it's black.
The Macaroni is not as ergonomically fraught as you'd think. The large choil just behind the base of the edge is basically lifted directly from the much larger Emperor design, and the handle is long enough for a three finger grip if you count your thumb. I find that being so close to the working edge makes it very controllable. All of the edge can be brought down on a flat surface due to its curvature and high upsweep. That means you absolutely could use this on a cutting board if you wanted to, although it would be very silly. If you wanted to use this to cut up your carrots and peppers at camp I'm certainly not going to stop you.
Each example of the Macaroni includes a Kydex sheath and a clip. These are a fold over design, fastened with two rivets as befits the teeny tiny stature. The clip can be flipped over to the other side, and if you prefer you can also reconfigure them to point towards the tip rather than the handle if you'd prefer to carry your knife upside down for whatever reason.
If you've got exceptionally stout neck muscles, you could also get creative with dangling this from some cord to use as a neck knife. I daresay there's plenty enough retention to keep the knife from falling out even under the most rigorous of activities, whatever they may be. Don't blame me if this thing goes swinging around and you knock yourself out with it, though.
