Serving Board in Birdseye Maple
Regular price
$380.00
Unit price
per
+ shipping
Non-toxic, food-safe, and solvent-free
Sustainably sourced hardwoods bonded with fully cured Titebond III
North American Birdseye Maple
Food-grade mineral oil and beeswax blend
19 ¼″ × 9 ¼″ × 0.56″
2.6 lb / 41 oz
Care
Care
Hand wash only. Wipe dry immediately.
Never place in dishwasher or submerge in water.
To prevent warping, re-oil monthly or when dry, and apply conditioner regularly.
Story
Story
I moved to Austin in 2021, after a rough pandemic and some personal upheaval. That’s when woodworking moved from hobby to obsession.
In East Austin, I wandered into Take Heart and saw an Edward Wohl cutting board. The grain stunned me. I’d never seen anything like it. Chill bumps as I stared at those weeping, bird-eye constellations.
I learned only one in five hundred maples grows this figure. No one knows why. Finding birdseye maple became my white whale.
Fast-forward to January 2025. Northwest road trip. I finally stop at Gilmer Wood, the “library of wood” Portland woodworkers avoid because: ✓grumpy owner ✓ancient computer and ✓lose the wood ID number, you get the eyebrow and the boot.
I dig through musty, dusty rows until I find it. Tall, dense, tight-eyed. Grade-A. The board you'll never forget. I take the longest piece.
It’s thick enough to re-saw and bookmatch. Two mirrored pieces, traced and curved by hand, until it feels right—rounded, gentle, like the way arms cradle an infant.
Edges shaped by pencil, angle grinder, orbital sander, hand. Sanded up to 320 grit, to feel as smooth as riverstone. With each pass, the weeping eyes come forward.
Sometimes tears can be the happiest reminder of what you’ve been searching for all along.
In East Austin, I wandered into Take Heart and saw an Edward Wohl cutting board. The grain stunned me. I’d never seen anything like it. Chill bumps as I stared at those weeping, bird-eye constellations.
I learned only one in five hundred maples grows this figure. No one knows why. Finding birdseye maple became my white whale.
Fast-forward to January 2025. Northwest road trip. I finally stop at Gilmer Wood, the “library of wood” Portland woodworkers avoid because: ✓grumpy owner ✓ancient computer and ✓lose the wood ID number, you get the eyebrow and the boot.
I dig through musty, dusty rows until I find it. Tall, dense, tight-eyed. Grade-A. The board you'll never forget. I take the longest piece.
It’s thick enough to re-saw and bookmatch. Two mirrored pieces, traced and curved by hand, until it feels right—rounded, gentle, like the way arms cradle an infant.
Edges shaped by pencil, angle grinder, orbital sander, hand. Sanded up to 320 grit, to feel as smooth as riverstone. With each pass, the weeping eyes come forward.
Sometimes tears can be the happiest reminder of what you’ve been searching for all along.