Seth Vietti

About Seth Vietti

Having survived a career in the music industry, Seth co-founded KnifeNews.com in 2015 to share his lifelong passion for knives with other enthusiasts online. Follow him on Instagram (@seth30v) to see what he's cutting with today.

Spyderco Centofante 3 Review

by Seth Vietti 1 Comment

The Centofante 3 is one of Spyderco’s most long-lived designs. Introduced in 2004 and unchanged to this day, it’s been around long enough to witness most of the rest of Spyderco’s lineup either evolve or go extinct. I think the reason why is simple: the Centofante still looks good.

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Even a diehard Spyderco fan will admit that the company’s design language can be… polarizing. The Centofante achieves broader appeal by standing apart from the typical Spyderco style: no bulging blade, no forward finger choil, no full-flat grind. It’s slim, simple, yet dramatic. If not for the round hole and the silver bug in the handle, it could easily pass as a knife from another brand.

I’ve long been tempted to pick one up for myself, but skepticism of its old-fashioned pinned construction always held me back. Until now. So, is the Spyderco Centofante 3 really as timeless as it looks?

General Dimensions & Blade Details

The blade on the Centofante is just shy of three and a quarter inches long. Thanks to a tiny ricasso and the absence of a finger choil, it has almost the same amount of usable edge as the significantly larger Paramilitary 2.

Despite all the edge, the blade still feels petite – no doubt due to its exceptionally thin blade stock. It’s the Centofante’s most noteworthy spec: at 1.95mm thick (according to my calipers), it’s easily the longest, thinnest folding blade in Spyderco’s entire catalog, if not the knife market at large. The only knives I own with thinner blades are either keychain-sized novelties or flexible kitchen knives. The Centofante makes the Delica’s blade stock look generous in comparison, and the Para 3’s, outrageous.

A hollow grind was definitely the right choice here. As much as I appreciate Spyderco’s full-flat grinds, they necessarily get quite thin towards the tip. The steady hollow grind on the Centofante has no such distal taper, preventing this sliver of a blade from being drawn too thin. There’s no flex, and the tip is narrow but not delicate. While I would never recommend prying with it, the blade seems better equipped for the task than, say, a full-flat ground Delica, since it’s supported by full thickness blade stock almost all the way to the tip.

My Centofante didn’t arrive as sticky sharp as I have come to expect from Seki City, Japan Spydercos. Thankfully, the neatly applied factory edge and sharpening choil made it easy enough to touch up. As you might expect with a knife this thin, it cuts quite well. It doesn’t have the shearing power of a broad, flat ground blade, but it’s much more agile – able to twist quickly mid-cut without much resistance. Whether it’s a drop point or a spearpoint, the blade shape just works: a stretch of flat edge, a gentle belly, and a focused tip.

The blade steel is VG-10, a time-tested alloy with excellent corrosion resistance and decent edge retention. While today’s best powder metallurgy concoctions outclass it in one way or another, I don’t really miss them here. The more knives I use, the more I appreciate well-balanced steels; especially ones that deliver good value like VG-10. Also, on a knife that can’t be taken apart for cleaning, VG-10’s stainlessness is a major asset.

Handle, Ergonomics, & Pocket Clip

At a glance, the handle of the Centofante looks like anodized aluminum. If it was cool to the touch, it would feel like it, too. It’s actually plastic (fiberglass reinforced nylon, to be specific) with a similarly smooth, light texture. The silver bug and “speed lines” molded into the handle seemed a bit odd at first, but they grew on me: they give an otherwise plain knife some personality without being ostentatious.

The Centofante is exceedingly comfortable in hand. The four and a half inch handle is lightweight, nimble, and well-sized for the blade. Its ergonomic features are subtle. No finger grooves or jutting guards, just gentle curves that suggest – not demand – how to hold it. I especially like how it bows down into the palm: it helps the skinny handle feel more substantial, and keeps the angle of the blade better aligned with the arm. If you’ve ever used a Spyderco Military, the Centofante will feel weirdly similar. Despite the size difference, the knives share the same sloping ergonomic geometry.

The pocket clip is highly functional, doubly so because the handles are smooth. It comes from the factory configured for tip-down carry. I’m no tip-up evangelist, but after carrying it tip-down for a few days it was obvious the factory got it wrong. The exposed tang, pointy thumb ramp, and aggressive jimping on the blade snag everything in their path. Front pocket, back pocket; didn’t matter – retrieving a tip-down Centofante from any pocket was awkward and unpleasant, as was reaching past it. Luckily, flipping the clip to tip-up instantly and entirely solved the problem.

The real snag with the Centofante – well, the one you can’t fix with a screwdriver – is the handle’s pinned construction. I understand why it’s a deal-breaker for some people, especially the tinkerers who like to modify their knives and those who need something 100% rust proof. Given the choice, I’d take threaded fasteners over pins myself.

Nevertheless, my experience with the Centofante was completely undiminished by the way it was put together. Honestly, I was fishing for a problem and still couldn’t find one. We knife nerds can get swept up in hypotheticals. What if the pivot comes loose? What happens if the knife gets filled with sand? In reality, most of the projected problems with pinned construction have simple solutions – just not the same ones as a knife held together with screws. The pivot came perfectly set from the factory, and, being incapable of twisting itself loose, it has stayed that way. When I got sharpening stone slurry all over the knife, I cleaned it with soap and hot water, followed by a squirt of penetrating oil. Basically, I used the Centofante with impunity and it’s only gotten better. So, why worry?

Deployment & Lockup

A back lock secures the Centofante open. Like many old-school back locks, there’s a touch of vertical flex in the lockup – not enough to hear or see, just enough to feel when bearing down into a cut. Spyderco’s newer back locks have stamped out this endemic blade play with tight manufacturing tolerances and refinements to lock geometry. It would be nice to see those improvements carried over to older designs like the Centofante, but since it doesn’t affect the lock’s strength or security, I didn’t let it bother me.

The blade has a springy self-close, and once broken in it was easy to thumb or spydie-flick open. There’s enough ricasso to allow for one-handed closing, so long as you’re mindful of where your fingers are on the handle.

Spyderco Centofante 3 Review – Final Thoughts

This is a chimera of a knife. It’s almost as if it was built to satisfy a bunch of contradictory design objectives all at the same time. A strong grind on a delicate blade. An upper class look for a middle class price. Traditional construction on a modern folder. Somehow, the Centofante manages to hit those opposing targets simultaneously instead of splitting the difference and missing them altogether – if the late Frank Centofante was a bowler instead of a knifemaker, the Spyderco Centofante would be a 7-10 split conversion.

Ironically, the contradictions that make the Centofante unappealing to knife enthusiasts are probably the exact reasons for the Centofante’s long-term success. It’s not a niche knife. It’s a classy, charming, low-maintenance workhorse of a blade that belies its price point. For me, that makes the Spyderco Centofante 3 the consummate gift knife: handsome enough to appeal to anyone, and uncomplicated enough to work for someone who’s never even heard of a “torx bit.” No instructions necessary, no setup required (well, maybe you should go ahead and flip the pocket clip before wrapping it up). Give one to someone who appreciates nice things but knows nothing about knives, or someone who appreciates knives but knows nothing about nice things.

Spyderco CENTOFANTE 3 Prestige Folding Utility Pocket Knife with 3.14" VG-10 Stainless Steel Hollow Ground Blade and Lightweight FRN Handle - PlainEdge - C66PBK3

One of a Kind -Designed in collaboration with Frank Centofante, longtime custom knifemaker and past President of the Knifemaker's Guild, the Centofante 3 captures the spirit of his custom designs.
Ultra-Lightweight - The Centofante 3 has a thin-profiled, lightweight FRN Handle. Two channels are furrowed out of the handle for better grip and a Palladium silver Spyderco bug is inlayed into its surface.
Easy-to-Use Lock - For added security and convenience the back-lock is positioned midway on the spine and David Boye Dent is cut from the locking lever.
Pocket-Friendly - To ensure discreet carry the Centrofante 3 has a black steel pocket clip positions for tip-up/down, right-hand carry.
Versatile - The VG-10 blade has both a hollow-grind and swedge-grind with non-sharpened spine serrations (jimping) to hold the thumb steady when cutting.

I recommend purchasing the Spyderco Centofante 3 at Amazon or BladeHQ. Thanks for checking out my review.

Kershaw Bareknuckle Review

by Seth Vietti 5 Comments

It’s been a long time coming. The Kershaw Bareknuckle is the latest iteration of a knife design that has been churning between sister brands (and rival companies) since Zero Tolerance unveiled the 0777 back in 2011. It’s also something of a new flagship for Kershaw, who haven’t introduced a moderately priced, USA-made, manual action folder since the Skyline hit the market more than a decade ago.

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I was excited to get my hands on a Bareknuckle. From afar, it looked like a winner: a covetable design, made well, at a competitive price. Does it deliver? Let’s take a look.

General Dimensions & Blade Details

The Bareknuckle takes the muscular design of the 0777 and wrings out all the water weight. Its slimmed proportions give the knife a lean, sinewy look: still stylish, just more severe. They also make the Bareknuckle feel neatly compact, especially when closed.
Open, the blade measures 3.6 inches and every bit of it is usable edge. The plunge grind intersects the sharpening choil tidily, and the geometry of the handle allows the edge to stretch almost all the way to the oversized pivot. Compared to the Spyderco Endura (or Pacific Salt pictured below), the Bareknuckle has more usable blade length despite being a half-inch shorter overall.

Although the blade shape is unlike anything else I’ve ever used, I came to like it quite a bit. If I had to classify it, I’d go with “modified wharncliffe.” The edge is mostly straight except for a short, slight kink right in the middle. It doesn’t cut with the effortlessly precise tip control of a true wharncliffe, but it also isn’t anywhere near as inconvenient to work with on a plate or cutting board. Thanks to a high flat grind and reasonably thin blade stock, it slices quite well. Overall, it’s a nice compromise for a general-purpose EDC knife, especially if you want a pointy tip that isn’t so delicate you have to baby it.

Interestingly, I found the Bareknuckle’s unusual blade shape particularly easy to sharpen. The straightaways at the tip and heel of the blade made it simple to register the edge against a stone, and the belly (always a challenging part for me) was small enough I didn’t even get a chance to struggle. It helps that the steel here, Sandvik’s 14C28N alloy, is a real joy to sharpen. It doesn’t have the brute wear-resistance of a high carbide steel, but it takes a positively crispy edge without much fuss.

Handle, Ergonomics, & Pocket Clip

KAI have been riffing on this handle design for years now, and I can see why they keep coming back to it. The angular “humpback” in the spine keeps the flipper tab out of the way when closed, and provides a comfortable concavity for the thumb to rest in when open. The finger choil doubles as a cutout to access the sub-frame lock, and stops the knuckles from riding up against the flipper tab. The milled lines in the handle give the smooth anodized aluminum a pleasant tactility, and flow nicely with the facets of the blade.

There’s not a millimeter of wasted space anywhere on the Bareknuckle’s handle. It’s so tightly matched to the blade – and the blade has so much edge – that folding the thing up feels like some trick of non-euclidean geometry. In use, I found myself wishing for either a little less blade length or little more handle. The tip feels awkwardly far away in a saber grip, and the way the handle tapers through the palm feels slightly insubstantial, though not uncomfortable. I preferred using it in a pinch grip, which the concave pivot accommodates perfectly.

Pocket clips have always been KAI’s biggest bugbear. They make so many variants I’m sure some of them are fine, but all the clips I’ve experienced from the company were either functional but odd (Leek), mediocre (Cryo, ZT 0801), or good but borrowed from another designer entirely (Strider, Emerson, Hinderer collabs).

As for the clip on the Bareknuckle, well, it can be great. Just not the way it comes from the factory. Fresh out the box it had too much spring tension to work predictably without an assist from the other hand holding the pocket taut. Luckily, it’s a dead-simple fix: some careful prying from my Victorinox Bantam’s combo tool and the clip now slides onto my pockets thoughtlessly. The Bareknuckle actually carries quite well – it’s lightweight for its size at just 3.6 ounces and slim enough to tuck out of the way.

Deployment & Lockup

The Bareknuckle employs KAI’s sub-frame lock: a heavy-duty lock bar integrated into a lightweight handle. Combining the rigidity of a frame lock with the weight savings of a liner lock is an appealing idea, and the tech is admittedly cool-looking. I just think it’s a bit over-engineered. Other than maybe a marginal increase in strength, I don’t see what advantages a sub-frame lock has over an inset liner lock.

And unfortunately, a sub-frame lock is also susceptible to the same problems as a typical frame lock. Since the lock bar is exposed, it’s easy to unintentionally put pressure on it, pushing the detent ball into its hole and ultimately making the blade harder to deploy. When the Bareknuckle was new the detent was punishingly stiff – there were times I absolutely could not open the knife, especially if my hands were wet or sweaty.

Thankfully, after a few weeks it broke in dramatically. The lockbar lost its sensitivity to pressure, and the detent was tempered. Little details here – like the “landing pads” for your finger behind the flipper tab – go a long way towards making the lengthy break-in period more agreeable. Now the action is every bit as crisp, confident, and fast as anything from Zero Tolerance.

Kershaw Bareknuckle Review – Final Thoughts

I mentioned it once already, but it bears repeating: the Bareknuckle is the first USA-made Kershaw to eschew assisted opening in over a decade. The knife market looks very different than it did ten years ago. Consumer expectations have changed. Chinese startups are jockeying for position against American stalwarts. Social media has given knife enthusiasts a louder voice than ever. The Bareknuckle is undoubtedly a product of these pressures: a manual action ball-bearing flipper, competitively priced, with a famous (among knife nerds, that is) design heritage.

The Bareknuckle is the most appealing iteration of the 0777 yet. If you like the design, you shouldn’t hesitate to buy it; it’s worth the $60-$70 asking price. But as much as I appreciate the knife, I don’t think it’s going to be the one to break Kershaw’s Speedsafe habit – it requires too much patience and practice for a knife novice. For all the griping they elicit from enthusiasts, at least Speedsafe knives don’t ever need to be held a special way to work properly. Still, the Bareknuckle is a good knife, and a leap in the right direction for Kershaw.

Kershaw Bareknuckle Pocket Knife (7777); 3.5-Inch Stonewashed 14C28N Steel Blade; 6061-T6 Anodized Aluminum Handle; KVT Ball-Bearing Opening; Flipper; Sub-Frame Lock; Reversible Pocketclip; 3.4 oz

Classy, exciting, matte gray 6061-T6 anodized aluminum handles distinguish the knife amongst others. The striking color combination and contrast is impressive and sure to catch the eye of an admirer
Opened manually the old-fashioned way, the KVT ball-bearing opening makes the Bareknuckle smooth, safe, secure, fast, quick, convenient, and protective to deploy
The all-black, black oxide coated hardware along with the intricate, oversized pivot adds to the interest and stunning design of the knife. A slim backspacer adds another element of classic style
Sandvik calls 14C28N the overall highest performing knife steel and still maintains the productivity benefit of being fine-blankable. The strong blade with a long, piercing tip defines the knife
The stonewashed finish on the blade offers a rugged, tough, worn-in, roughed up look that works to hide fingerprints, dirt, scratches, use, wear and tear

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Kershaw Bareknuckle from Amazon or BladeHQ. Thanks for reading.

Cold Steel AD-10 Review

by Seth Vietti 5 Comments

Of all the words used to describe Cold Steel knives here on BladeReviews.com, “refined” isn’t at the top of the list. That’s not a metaphor – I literally made a list, and “refined” only appears three times. You’re much more likely to see Cold Steel knives described with adjectives like “strong” (41 times), “large” (39 times; followed closely by “big” at 38), and “comfortable” (26).

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Speaking as a former Cold Steel skeptic, I was unsurprised to find that the AD-10 is indeed strong, large (big), and comfortable. What did surprise me was just how good this knife is. It delivers the essence of Cold Steel, refined. It might be the best knife they’ve ever made. And if you, like me, ever scoffed at Cold Steel’s marketing or rolled your eyes at their product names, read on, because the AD-10 will catch you off guard.

General Dimensions & Blade Details

The proportions of this knife are deceptive. Yes, it’s big, but the wide handle, snubnosed blade, and protruding backspacer make it look even bigger – as if there’s another knife trapped in there, bulging through the seams trying to get out. Makes sense, considering the AD-10 is a downscaled version of designer Andrew Demko’s gargantuan 4-Max. Here it is filling out a Spyderco sandwich, between the longer Military and shorter Paramilitary 2:

The AD-10’s blade is clearly optimized for strength. The tip is wide, thick, and feels practically unbreakable. It penetrates more like an armor-piercing round than a needle, meaning it’ll get you into just about anything so long as you don’t care what kind of hole you leave behind. Behind the tip, the grind thins out quickly to a relatively thin edge thanks to a nicely executed hollow grind. Don’t let anyone tell you that thick knives can’t slice – the AD-10’s substantial 3.9mm blade stock and deep hollow grind work together like a zipper, holding material apart from the blade after the edge separates it. Compared to a full flat ground knife of similar stock thickness, the AD-10 carves through cardboard with noticeably less friction, powering through the nasty two- and three-ply stuff rather than getting wedged in.

There’s no avoiding the laws of physics, however: a hollow grind can only do so much for a knife this thick. It’s graceless in the kitchen, where the tip mashes more than it pierces, and crisp produce is split, not sliced. Then again, the AD-10 isn’t anyone’s idea of a kitchen knife. For more utilitarian cutting it works with surprising agility, despite looking like a wrecking ball.

The blade steel, S35VN, has performed well for me. Edge retention has been good; stainlessness, excellent. As for toughness, it did not disappoint. I took the AD-10 on a hike and ended up using it to trim back a bush that had overgrown the trail. A careless chop glanced into a stone, damaging the edge where it hit. Thankfully, the steel was tough enough to roll, not chip, so the damage was easy to sharpen out.

Handle, Ergonomics, & Pocket Clip

At just over three and a half inches long, I wouldn’t call the blade oversized. The handle, though, is another story. Even if you ignore the extended pommel, it still measures in at 5.25 inches. For perspective, that’s almost as much handle as the Spyderco Military, with about as much blade as the Para 2. Yeah. If you’re someone who obsesses over high blade:handle ratios, this isn’t your knife. To top it off, the AD-10 is bulky, too; easily eclipsing my heretofore thickest knife, the Victorinox Alox Farmer.

These comparisons aren’t complaints. Because the AD-10 is the most comfortable folding knife I’ve ever used. Andrew Demko is a master of ergonomics. You’d think a knife with this many finger grooves – plus a front and rear guard – would feel awkward to move around on, but the AD-10’s smooth and deeply sculpted handle isn’t so prescriptive that you feel locked in to any single grip.

The pocket clip is wide, polished, and barely noticeable in hand. The lock bar and backspacer leave no palm-pinching voids in the back of the handle. Every edge, every corner is shaped or softened. It all feels very purposeful, allowing you to exert more force with less strain – this is a knife that makes “hard use” feel easier. One ergonomic caveat: the forward finger choil might be a little cramped for thicker fingers, although I didn’t have any issues.

The unavoidable problem with a knife this fist-filling is how awkward it is to carry in a pocket. I mean, it’s 6.8 ounces and thicker than a coin purse on laundry day. I can deal with large knives (see my review of the Spyderco Hundred Pacer), but the AD-10 stretches (literally) the capacity of my pockets. If you wanted to carry it in your waistband, you’d probably need to buy bigger pants. Even though it hurts to suggest something so shamefully uncool, your best option might actually be a belt pouch.

Still, despite the weight and bulk, I’d pick the AD-10 for my pocket before any of the other Cold Steel folders I’ve owned. The clip – while it could use a little more “ramp” at the lip to help it over thick seams – is an improvement over the too-short, too-stiff, death grip clips I’ve struggled with in the past. And unlike the pocket rasps Cold Steel typically uses for handle scales, the smooth G10 on the AD-10 makes stowing and retrieving the knife a cinch.

Deployment & Lockup

At this point, Cold Steel’s Tri-Ad lock needs little introduction – it’s simply one of, if not the strongest locking system on the market today. What impresses me more than its absolute strength is its tolerance for abuse over time. Even if you were to impact it hard enough to deform the lock face, the built-in play around the lock bar pivot preserves solid lockup, by allowing the lock bar to reset itself against the stop pin. It’s clever engineering, but that play in the lock bar can sometimes make the Tri-Ad lock sticky and hard to disengage. Not so here: the AD-10 unlocks cleanly without the need for any break-in.

Ambidextrous thumbstuds and glassy smooth Teflon washers make for satisfying deployment, whether you open it slowly or with a quick flick. Closing it back up one-handed is a little counter-intuitive. So long as you don’t pull your fingers away from the heavy falling blade, they’ll safely catch the choil and not the edge, though thicker fingers should proceed with caution.

Cold Steel AD-10 Review – Final Thoughts

The AD-10 feels like the latest and greatest result of an ongoing evolution at Cold Steel. I can’t pinpoint when it started, exactly, but I started to take notice when they upgraded their blade steel across the board in 2015.

Ever since then, it seems like they’ve been taking the cheesy machismo that built the brand and distilling it into impressive products that do more than just tactical wish fulfillment (not that there’s anything wrong with that – I once owned a Rajah 2, after all). The AD-10 doubles down on what Cold Steel have always done well – big, brash, and strong – but doesn’t swagger over the little details. It’s not a knife I can always carry, but definitely one I enjoy using when I do. If your pockets will stretch for it, you won’t find a more capable and comfortable folder at this price point.

Sale

Cold Steel AD-10 and AD-15 Tactical Folding Knife with Lock and Pocket Clip - Premium S35VN Steel Blade, AD-10

PREMIUM, ALL-PURPOSE BLADE: Features an ultra-wide saber ground blade with a sturdy drop point perfect for everyday carry (EDC), a big game hunt, dangerous expedition, or exciting adventure; Made with premium, ultra tough S35VN steel
HIGH PERFORMANCE IN EVERY SITUATION: Ground thin at the edge and honed to razor sharpness for unprecedented cutting, shearing, and piercing power in a sub 4-inch blade while remaining remarkably resistant to bending, breaking or chipping
COMFORTABLE, SECURE GRIP: The handle is strong and user-friendly with heat-treated, full-length aluminum liners, 3D machined G-10 scales, and oversized pins and bolts; Fits snugly in the hand due to precise contouring and integral finger guard
ULTRA-RELIABLE LOCKING MECHANISM: Uses custom knife-maker Andrew Demko's famous TriAd lock that has been proven over time to be unsurpassed in strength, shock resistance and durability and gives unrivaled protection for your irreplaceable fingers
USER-FRIENDLY FEATURES: Equipped with an ambidextrous thumb stud and dual pocket clips for lightning quick deployment and convenient carry

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Cold Steel AD-10 at Amazon or BladeHQ. Please consider that buying anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews.com, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Victorinox Bantam Alox Review

by Seth Vietti 12 Comments

Victorinox makes the most popular pocket knives in the world. That’s not hyperbole, it’s just a fact: globally, Victorinox sells more folding knives than any other cutlery company and it isn’t even close. The Swiss Army Knife is an icon, lionized by media (MacGyver) and government (NASA) alike. They’re so well-known to be useful tools that the phrase “Swiss Army Knife” has come to represent the idea of multipurpose utility, itself.

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Out of the hundreds of Swiss Army Knife variants, the Alox Cadet seems to be the “gear geek” consensus choice for everyday carry: a winning combination of durable Alox construction, pocketable size, and useful tool selection. But what if I told you there might be an even better knife for the job in the Victorinox catalog? Allow me to (re)introduce you to the Alox Bantam.

General Dimensions & Blade Details

The Bantam, like the Cadet, falls in the middle of the current Swiss Army Knife (SAK) size range. At 3.3 inches (84mm) long when closed, it’s a sizable step up from their keychain models, but noticeably smaller than their “full-sized” pocket knives. Here it is between a Rambler (58mm) and an Alox Farmer (93mm):

Unlike the Cadet, which has a second backspring to accommodate separate can and bottle openers, the Bantam has a single tool for opening both nestled beside the main blade. This single-layer construction, coupled with skinny aluminum scales, makes the Alox Bantam literally wafer thin. Or, if you happen to have some Ritz handy, cracker thin:

The blade shape on the Bantam is quintessential Victorinox: a drop point with a slightly bulbous tip. Everything you’d expect a 2.5-inch slipjoint to do, this blade does well. There’s enough belly to make cutting on a board feel natural. It’s thin enough to cut with even after it gets a little dull (which it will, and fast). And while I do wish the tip was a little more acute, it’s not as blunt as it looks – it still pierced clamshell packaging with ease and cut out printed shipping labels with precision.

Victorinox doesn’t advertise their blade steel anymore, but it’s no secret that whatever they use doesn’t hold an edge for very long. Thankfully, it’s also inexpensive and impressively stain-resistant. For my money, it’s a compromise I’m willing to work around, especially since I’m usually carrying the Bantam alongside a larger and more capable folder. Plus, the steel’s softness / lack of wear resistance means you can maintain it on just about anything abrasive. For example: after the blade lost its keenness cutting two large cardboard boxes into strips small enough to fit in my undersized recycling bin, it only took a minute of stropping against that same cardboard to bring it back. Unfortunately, those sorts of tricks only work for so long before it’s time for a proper re-sharpening.

Handle, Ergonomics, & Pocket Clip

The first time I held the Bantam, I had to repress the urge to put it in my mouth to snap it like a chip. The waffled, wafer-like texture of its thin Alox scales coupled with its barely-there weight makes the Bantam feel more like a popsicle stick than a pocket knife. The more I used it, however, the more I came to trust it (and the less I subconsciously associated it with snacks). The riveted all-metal construction is rigid and the handle texture, while not aggressive, provides some traction even when wet.

Measuring in at 3.3 inches long, the handle of the Bantam is long enough to wrap all four fingers around, but thin enough that I wouldn’t really want to bear down on it. It’s practically two-dimensional: whichever tool you have unfolded, the handle presents as a simple, flat, oblong shape. Not exactly comfortable, just impossible to hold incorrectly. Once you get used to its exceptional thinness the Bantam basically disappears in use, allowing you to focus on the task at hand instead of how you’re holding the tool.

I avoid carrying anything loose in my pockets if I can help it. So, with neither pocket clip nor lanyard loop to anchor it from twisting, swinging, or knocking around in there, the Bantam was not something I expected to enjoy carting around. To my surprise, I struggled to notice it was even there. It’s hard to overstate just how slim and light this knife is – I’ve pocketed CVS receipts bulkier than the Alox Bantam.

Deployment & Lockup

The backspring tension on the Bantam is well-balanced: strong enough to keep the tools firmly in place when open, but not so strong as to make them awkward to unfold. Opening either one is always a two-handed operation. After more than a year of use, neither tool has developed any play, though they’ve picked up a fair few scratches.

Equipping a pocket multi-tool with a dedicated can opener has always been baffling to me. Even if we set aside the fact that pull-tabs on cans have become ubiquitous, I can think of a dozen other tools I’d need before encountering a single unopened can. Victorinox clearly disagrees, because nearly every full-sized SAK includes a can opener. Here on the Bantam it’s been cleverly integrated into a “combination tool,” which also lifts off bottle caps…

…drives screws…

…and scrapes, prods, and pries if need be.

It’s become my favorite Victorinox tool by far, and it makes the perfect companion to the Bantam’s light-duty blade. It’s not a crowbar or an impact driver – obviously – but in the daily struggle against encroaching entropy, the combo tool is often enough to tweak, tighten, or undo the issue on the spot without a walk to the toolbox.

Victorinox Bantam Review – Final Thoughts

Goldilocks would agree with me: the Bantam is just right. The keychain-sized SAKs are useful to have around (who doesn’t love those tiny scissors?), but far too feeble to replace a dedicated knife. The larger SAKs are also great, but tend to be loaded with tools I don’t use often enough to justify carrying them around all day. The Bantam is just enough knife for most cutting, plus it’s capable of work that a blade alone can’t (or maybe just shouldn’t) do.

I don’t think there’s another knife on the market that packs so much utility into such little mass. For me, this is where the Bantam really pulls ahead of the Cadet as a daily companion: it offers 80% of the functionality at half the size. Unless you absolutely need a nail file or can’t live without a lanyard, the Bantam wins by sheer efficiency. And even though the Alox variant is about $10 more than the red plastic-handled Bantam, the durability, grip, and next-level thinness the Alox scales provide are well worth the upgrade.

Some, I suspect, won’t see the Bantam’s ultra-minimalist design as a selling point. If you’re looking for a multi-tool that’s more “off-road” than “office,” I would point you elsewhere. But if you’re looking for a polite companion to a larger knife, or want the multipurpose utility of a Swiss Army Knife without any extra frippery, I would enthusiastically recommend the Alox Bantam.

Sale

Victorinox 0.2300.26 Bantam Silver Alox 84mm Small Officer's Knife That's Practical in a Big Way in Silver 3.3 inches

A CUT ABOVE THE REST:Compact, agile and ready to face any adventure head-on. Our range of Swiss Army Knives have been established since 1897 and continue to be an icon of utility and smart design.
DURABLE CONSTRUCTION: Swiss made stainless steel construction encased in our popular scales offers a slimmer profile and is extremely resistant.
COMPACT CARRY: Bring this knife with you on your daily adventures without sacrificing space.
FIT FOR ALL TASKS: At their heart, all our pocket knives are a survival tool; multitaskers that deliver in any situation. At their most evolved they have surpassed basic function to pioneer space travel and restart engines.
TRUSTED QUALITY: Made in Switzerland; Victorinox provides a lifetime against defects in material and workmanship. Making a lifetime commitment has never been so easy. No assembly required, money back guarantee.

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Victorinox Bantam at Amazon or BladeHQ. Please keep in mind that purchasing anything through any of the links on this website helps support BladeReviews, and keeps the site going. As always, any and all support is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much.

Spyderco Kapara Review

by Seth Vietti 1 Comment

On paper, the Spyderco Kapara offers an attractive proposition: utilitarian design, high-end looks, and some of Spyderco’s most popular features fused together in a slim, pocket friendly package. Since it released in late 2018, the Kapara has been my near-daily companion. It took me longer than I expected to form my opinion of this beguiling new Spyderco knife. One question kept nagging me: do the elements of the Kapara that were so appealing to me on paper, hold up under scrutiny in hand?

General Dimensions & Blade Details

At eight-and-a-quarter inches overall with just over three-and-a-half inches of blade, the Kapara is by no means a small knife. Dimensions aren’t the whole story, though – while somewhat long, it feels exceptionally lithe. The blade is thin (3mm stock thickness) and slim, barely widening around the spyderhole before winding down to the slender tip. It’s a fresh, elegant take on a classic Spyderco blade shape, reminiscent of Sal Glesser silhouettes like the Stretch or UKPK Drop Point.

Typically, blades in the 3.5 inch range don’t really work for me. I find they suffer from something like “middle child syndrome:” too small to shoulder the responsibility of impromptu kitchen knife duty, too big to get away with sneaking into a pocket unnoticed. The Kapara, however, splits the difference perfectly. It’s got enough blade length to flex into some “big knife” work, but feels light for its size at just 3.4 ounces.

The Kapara was designed by Australian knife maker Alistair Phillips with a mind towards everyday food prep tasks. While it definitely isn’t the king of the cutting board (a title still held uncontested by my Spyderco Hundred Pacer), the Kapara’s flat-ground blade and long, low, and thin edge geometry make it a great paring knife. I especially appreciated the articulate tip, which – thanks to the thoughtful blade shape and well-executed distal taper – was pointy enough to pierce effortlessly, yet wide enough to deftly pluck seeds from citrus or spread peanut butter.

I do wish Spyderco had included the small sharpening choil present on Phillip’s original design. Resharpening was easy enough, but the untidy edge at the heel of the blade feels out of place on such an elegant knife. Luckily for me, Mr. Phillips has published a video tutorial on how to add a sharpening choil to the Kapara should I ever feel bothered enough to modify it myself.

For blade steel, Spyderco have opted for CPM-S30V, an American powder-metallurgy alloy developed specifically for cutlery. I’ll touch on my personal quibble with this choice later, but speaking objectively it makes sense here. S30V’s combination of great corrosion resistance, good edge holding, and relative ease of sharpening make it a safe choice for a pocket knife users are encouraged to use on food.

Handle, Ergonomics, and Pocket Clip

When I first slid the Kapara from its red, black, and gold foil Spyderco box, the handle immediately caught my attention. The tastefully embellished pivot and burgundy backspacer are nice, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen carbon fiber scales executed so excellently on a production knife: lustrous, gently radiused, symmetrical, perfectly flush with the liners, and neatly softened around the edges.

The handle is quite smooth, and I expected the knife to feel slippery and difficult to control. As it turns out, the ergonomics more than make up for the lack of texture. The arched back of the handle lends most grips ample leverage, and is plenty long enough to hold without feeling crowded into the finger choil. The thumb ramp, while subtle, reassures against sliding forward in a thrusting cut.

The finger choil is shallow but not at all undersized.

And the dip in the spine of the blade makes for an easy place to rest the forefinger when guiding the tip.

In pocket, the Kapara’s impeccable smoothness pays dividends. The wire clip hangs the knife deep with plenty of tension to hold it securely in place, yet it slides in and out of pocket effortlessly. No yanking, no forcing it down over a thick seam, no shredding your pocket lining day by day… honestly, the Kapara carries so well it may have spoiled textured handles for me. I know I’m not the only one with a drawer full of otherwise presentable pants all disintegrating at the right front pocket.

Deployment & Lockup

Spyderco’s compression lock is known for its simplicity, safety, and strength. Here on the Kapara it delivers unimpeachable lockup and a firm detent for snappy, satisfying deployment. Closing it, however, took a little getting used to. The knife is slender enough that there’s not much room to hold the knife and pinch the lock open at the same time. Instead, I found it easier to operate more like a back lock, by using my thumb to disengage the lock…

…then safely catch the ricasso of the smoothly dropping blade with my forefinger.

The experience isn’t quite as fidget-friendly as Spyderco’s USA-made compression lock knives (e.g. the Paramilitary 2), but it certainly didn’t stop me from compulsively flicking the Kapara open and closed in my idle moments.

Spyderco Kapara Review – Final Thoughts

In the end, the Kapara exceeded even my initially high expectations for the knife. It’s thoughtfully designed, expertly made, and a pleasure to use. More than that, it’s a knife with a distinct and charming personality, a knife that doesn’t feel quite like anything else on the market and is better for it. The closest comparison I can come up with is the venerable Benchmade 940: another 3.5 inch, easy to carry, dressed-up yet hard-working knife with its own quirky character. (Is it coincidence that both Alistair Phillips and 940 designer Warren Osborne are Australian? [Probably.])

The Kapara is such an outstanding knife, in fact, that I only wish it had a blade steel to match. S30V is better than average, but a high-performance stainless steel like 20CV or M390 would truly elevate the design. That said, it’s nothing to whine over. I find it hard to imagine anyone being disappointed with the Kapara, even at the full retail price I paid ($188 as of this review). If you’re looking for a pocket knife that cuts as well as it carries and feels as good as it looks, I unreservedly recommend the Spyderco Kapara.

Spyderco Kapara – From $188.50
From: BladeHQ

I recommend purchasing the Spyderco Kapara at Amazon, BladeHQ, or GP Knives. Thanks for reading.

Spyderco Hundred Pacer Review

by Seth Vietti 7 Comments

At first, nothing about the Spyderco Hundred Pacer appealed to me. For someone intent on wringing maximum utility from every inch, every ounce, and every dollar’s worth of blade, the Hundred Pacer seems absurd: too big, too heavy, and too expensive. It’s also… weird. Impressively weird, even for Spyderco, whose catalog is persistently peppered with odd and ugly ducklings.

Buy the Spyderco Hundred Pacer at BladeHQ

Buy on Amazon

I guess it’s a good thing I had a chance to handle this odd and imposing design in person before buying one, otherwise I would have almost certainly missed out on one of the most useful and interesting knives I’ve carried this year.

General Dimensions & Blade Details

The Hundred Pacer is named after a venomous snake, a Taiwanese viper supposedly so deadly that – according to local folklore – whoever suffers its venomous bite will stagger just one hundred paces away before dropping dead. The name isn’t the only thing designer Jonny Liao borrowed from the snake; the knife’s blade shape is inspired by its characteristically upturned snout, and the two-toned texture in the G-10 handle is inspired by the rhomboid pattern of brown and tan scales running down its back.

The Hundred Pacer is such an oddly proportioned design that it’s hard to get a sense of this knife’s scale from pictures alone. Comparisons can help – here it is against the Spyderco Military family:

While it may be shorter overall than the full-sized Military, the Hundred Pacer manages to fit in a bit more edge thanks to an efficient use of handle space. The knife feels substantial, weighing in at just over five ounces, but given its sheer bulk it doesn’t feel disproportionate.

It’s hard to overstate just how broad the blade of the Hundred Pacer actually is. For a folding knife, it’s downright gratuitous: at its widest point, the blade of the Hundred Pacer is just a few millimeters shy of my classic Victorinox 8 inch chef’s knife. In use, however, it feels purposeful; intuitive, even. The edge begins below the handle, affording it near full-length contact against a cutting board. It slopes steadily from heel to point in a single uninterrupted arc, slicing aggressively but predictably, without abrupt changes in geometry that can cause cuts to push or pull away. The tip sits just above the centerline of the knife and feels precise and easy to control. And the extra-wide flat ground blade, coupled with an acute distal taper, makes for startlingly good cutting performance.

I have observed that a knife with good blade geometry will continue to cut comfortably through all but the most delicate materials even after the edge has dulled. Long after the Hundred Pacer had lost its hair-shaving sharpness from cutting in the kitchen, at the fireplace, and in front of the recycling bin, it continued to perform well.

No doubt Spyderco’s choice of blade steel, CTS-XHP, played a significant role here, too. It is said to be an advanced, stainless version of D2. I can’t speak to the science behind the alloy, but after more than a year of use I can say it has become a personal favorite for its well-balanced combination of good corrosion resistance, excellent edge retention, and ease of sharpening. It plays nicely with my cheap sharpening stones, polishes well, and seems to take a fine edge easier and hold it noticeably longer than comparable industry favorites S30V and S35VN.

Handle, Ergonomics, & Pocket Clip

In hand, the Hundred Pacer feels practically paleolithic, a fistful of G10 fit for a neanderthal’s fist. There’s plenty of room on the handle to accommodate different grips, but the hump above the pivot tends to push the hand away, either back on the handle for a natural grip:

or forward, with the thumb nestling down onto the sloped spine of the blade to apply pressure directly into a cut:

Both grips are useful and comfortable, but more often than not (and especially when working on a cutting board) I find myself using the knife in a pinch grip.

The snakeskin pattern milled into the G10 is attractive and substantially grippy, even when wet. Compared to the typical peel-ply stuff, it has a variegated, organic feel. And mercifully, Spyderco have opted to leave a patch of the handle smooth under the clip so the texture doesn’t gnaw away at your pockets.

When you need to apply some force, it’s nice to have a handle that your hand can stretch out on. However, there are some ergonomic drawbacks to such a broad, flat handle. Tasks that require deft rotation of the knife in the hand (e.g. peeling small fruit) are a little awkward, and the bulbous rear end of the knife can feel oversized in some grips.

Perhaps the biggest drawback of all is how the knife carries. Despite being equipped with Spyderco’s deep carry wire clip – a minimal, functional design that on any other knife I might call discreet – the Hundred Pacer carries… conspicuously. It dominates pocket space like a limo dominates curbside parking. The knife starts wide at the clip and gets even wider around the pivot, so the experience of reaching past it for something else in your pocket ranges from awkward to impossible. Thankfully, the clip is always cooperative. Once you cede control of your pocket over to the Hundred Pacer, getting the knife into and out of it is thoughtless; a real testament to the utility of Spyderco’s wire clip design.

Deployment & Lockup

Because most of the mass in the Hundred Pacer’s blade is centered around the pivot, flicking it open doesn’t have the weighty, wrist-snapping feel you might expect from such a big blade. Its unusual kinetics take a little getting used to, but thanks to generous access to the thumb hole and a firm – but not hard – detent, one-handed deployment is reliable whether you want to open it slow and sure, flick it out with your thumb, or “spydieflick” it with your middle finger. The pivot turns fluidly on robustly thick phosphor bronze washers.

The nested liner lock has been drama-free since day one, providing secure engagement with the blade at exactly the same spot today as it did when I first opened the knife. Unlocking it is simple, and more importantly, safe: unless you deliberately move your thumb away from the lockbar release cutout, there’s no way for the blade to cut your finger while closing.

Spyderco Hundred Pacer Review – Final Thoughts

It almost goes without saying, but the Hundred Pacer won’t be for everyone. Even for those it does appeal to, I suspect that its price ($234 on BladeHQ as of December 2018) makes it easy to choose something else. If this knife was under $200, I think it would be a much more compelling buy.

That said, if I lost my Hundred Pacer tomorrow I would not hesitate to replace it. There are knives that carry more discreetly (most of them), but in use, the Hundred Pacer might be the best all-rounder I’ve ever owned. It’s a superlative slicer, but it still has enough rigidity at the tip and strength behind the edge to handle forceful stabs and torquey cuts. The ergonomics on a cutting board are a huge practical advantage – when I expect to be cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen, I bring the Hundred Pacer.

It’s perfect for long trips away from home – or just long days – when it can flex fluently from pocket knife, to work knife, to kitchen knife. Just don’t forget to clean it in-between.

Spyderco Hundred Pacer Linerlock

Crafted from the highest quality materials
Built for performance and durability
Made in Taiwan

Editor: I recommend purchasing the Spyderco Hundred Pacer at Amazon or BladeHQ.