Serving Board in Walnut
Regular price
$260.00
Unit price
per
+ shipping
Non-toxic, food-safe, and solvent-free
Sustainably sourced hardwoods bonded with fully cured Titebond III
Claro Walnut in Straight Grain
North American Hard Maple
Food-grade mineral oil and beeswax blend
18″ × 10″ × ½″
1.8 lb / 28 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
Sacramento Delta, February 2025. I was there for a friend’s documentary premiere on women in construction. I had a few hours to kill, so I thought about cruising some lumber shops. I remembered the Redwood print on my wall back home. The artist had told me, “If you want the best of California trees, go to Hunski Hardwoods.”
Google showed it was a house on the river. I called, no answer. Circled the block, thinking maybe I had the wrong information. Then my phone rang back. “Swing by. I’ll show you around.”
I pulled into a muddy lot surrounded by barns - every square foot stacked with walnut slabs, all shapes, all sizes, smelling like river silt and sawdust. No storefront. Just family.
I wandered until a Hunski appeared - hands in pockets, curious if I was lost or just curious. I told him I’d driven over from Reno, just to see wood. He laughed, nodded, understood, and started showing me his favorites. Salvage stories, storm-felled trees, stacks of California Claro with colors I’d never seen. Every board was different: orange, gold, deep brown, lines running wild.
Then he pointed to three offcuts - tiny by comparison, but the colors stopped me. “Just scraps,” he said. Not to me.
I brought them home, determined to save every inch. The board that came out of it is the thinnest I’ve ever made - planed down to feather light, but strong as anything. Working with a board this thin, I could do lines and inlays with bends and twists that I’d never dared before. The wood let me experiment. I thought about the twists and turns of the Sacramento river, where she was born.
Three maple inlays - sharp, dramatic, just barely holding the curves before the edge.
Sometimes, lightness holds strongest.
Google showed it was a house on the river. I called, no answer. Circled the block, thinking maybe I had the wrong information. Then my phone rang back. “Swing by. I’ll show you around.”
I pulled into a muddy lot surrounded by barns - every square foot stacked with walnut slabs, all shapes, all sizes, smelling like river silt and sawdust. No storefront. Just family.
I wandered until a Hunski appeared - hands in pockets, curious if I was lost or just curious. I told him I’d driven over from Reno, just to see wood. He laughed, nodded, understood, and started showing me his favorites. Salvage stories, storm-felled trees, stacks of California Claro with colors I’d never seen. Every board was different: orange, gold, deep brown, lines running wild.
Then he pointed to three offcuts - tiny by comparison, but the colors stopped me. “Just scraps,” he said. Not to me.
I brought them home, determined to save every inch. The board that came out of it is the thinnest I’ve ever made - planed down to feather light, but strong as anything. Working with a board this thin, I could do lines and inlays with bends and twists that I’d never dared before. The wood let me experiment. I thought about the twists and turns of the Sacramento river, where she was born.
Three maple inlays - sharp, dramatic, just barely holding the curves before the edge.
Sometimes, lightness holds strongest.