Charcuterie Board

Curt Brown wasn’t your average woodworker—he was a retired firefighter with forearms like tree trunks and a heart three sizes too big. After hanging up his helmet, he picked up a chisel and discovered that shaping wood was almost as satisfying as saving cats from trees. Almost.

One Saturday, while listening to classic rock in his garage-turned-workshop (affectionately called The Splinter Den), Curt looked at a slab of live-edge cherry and said, “You, my friend, are gonna become the charcuterie board to end all charcuterie boards.”

But Curt couldn’t stop at just a board. No, sir. He inlaid strips of walnut and maple in a lightning bolt pattern across the top—because, in his words, “Every good snack board deserves to be electrifying.” Then he carved tiny recesses for ramekins (“Gotta have a dip zone”) and added hidden grooves on the underside for sliding in a pair of mini tongs.

And—because he was Curt—he burned in a little phrase along the edge:

“Snack responsibly.”

He brought the board to his neighbor’s backyard party, stacked high with cured meats, spicy pickles, and cheeses with names no one could pronounce. People stared. They didn’t know whether to eat or applaud.

“Curt,” someone whispered, “this isn’t a board… it’s a battlefield of flavor.”

Curt just shrugged, popped a grape in his mouth, and said, “Every hero needs a worthy weapon.”

From that day on, Curt’s charcuterie board wasn’t just a centerpiece. It was a legend—rolling into potlucks like a rockstar, spreading snacks and smiles wherever it went.

(Made by Curt Brown for In The Kitchen Contest)