Any serious critic of dining knows that the meal begins not with the food but with the sound. I therefore tested six tin openers by ear alone, from behind a sofa, and ranked them as follows. Sixth: the electric model, which hums like a lecture. Fifth: the cheap lever, a squeak. Fourth: the ring pull, which is honest but rushed and tends to be followed by a spill.
Third, the classic wheel and handle, at $9.50. Second, the antique with a bone grip, owned by a Mrs. Haversham, who turns it with the unhurried grace of a priestess. First: the one I heard from three rooms away at 5:58 a.m., which I cannot name because I was already running. It was, in a word, divine, and, in two, warm salmon.
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