Over the last few years, I’ve noticed an arms race amongst San Francisco restaurants: their steak knives. A few minutes before the arrival of your chop, the server, decked out in tattoos and a leather apron, will come by to replace your everyday knife with an implement Jim Bowie might have brought with him to a duel. It promises a meal of accomplishment and adventure.

What a boon it could be, then, for vegetarian eating if your roast cauliflower were accompanied with a bolo or your tortilla española with a yataghan. If the carnivorous were no longer endowed with better cutlery, might not more attempt a meat-free meal?