There is a particular kind of plank — wide, scarred, riven down the middle by a long check — that everyone but a woodworker considers garbage. We were standing in the courtyard with our cardboard recycling when the neighbour from the second floor walked past it twice and then asked if we wanted it for free. Forty minutes later it was on the bench. By Saturday lunchtime it was a side table beside the reading chair, and it has been there ever since.
Why a cracked plank is the right plank
A perfect plank costs eighty euros and looks the same as every other perfect plank. A cracked one costs nothing, has a story, and forces the design. The crack runs where it runs; the table top has to accommodate it. Either you fill it, or you brace it, or you celebrate it. We celebrated it — a butterfly key in walnut at the centre of the check holds the wood together and reads as deliberate.
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The other reason is geometry. A cracked plank tends to be wider than a clean one — it failed during drying, the failure was the price of width. Twenty-six centimetres is a useful width for a side table. Eighteen, the standard for clean planks at this price point, is not. The check made the table possible.
Three beech legs and a stretcher
We had three beech off-cuts in the shop, each about forty-five centimetres long. A side table at reading height wants forty-six. Close enough — the table sits a thumb's width below the chair seat, which is the right relationship. Three legs, splayed, with a single low stretcher in the middle, kept the design simple. Four legs would have been correct and dull. Three legs read as table; three legs ask the eye to pay attention.
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“Three legs read as table; four legs read as furniture.” — Theo
- Free wood is the best wood. Free wood with a defect is the best wood for a beginner.
- Splayed legs at six degrees off vertical look correct. Vertical legs read as flat-pack.
- Through-tenons on the legs into the top, wedged. Glue alone is for amateurs and IKEA.
- Linseed oil, two coats, twenty-four hours apart. Do not use polyurethane on a piece you love.
How to do it
Plane the plank to thickness.
Twenty-five millimetres is the right thickness for a small side table. A jack plane and forty minutes; a planer and ten. Do not skip the card scraper at the end — it makes the difference between hand-made and rough.
Inlay the butterfly key.
Sketch the butterfly across the crack. Cut the recess with a router to depth, finish with chisels. Glue the walnut key in proud, plane it flush after dry. The key holds the wood from moving any further.
Cut and shape the legs.
Three beech off-cuts. Taper one face from foot to top — three centimetres at the top, two at the foot. Drill a 25 mm mortise through the top of each leg for the through-tenon to come from above.
Through-tenon assembly.
Glue, drive the legs upward through the top, wedge with two thin walnut wedges per tenon. Clean up the wedges flush. The wedges lock the leg, no glue needed beyond initial fit.
Frequently asked
Can I use any oak?
Why three legs and not four?
Do I need a butterfly key, or can I just fill the crack?
What about food spills?
In closing
The side table holds the morning coffee, the evening book, and the cat occasionally. The crack runs across the middle and is the part of it people ask about. The neighbour who threw out the plank stopped by once and recognised it. He looked pleased. So did the plank, after a fashion. Furniture from free wood is the cheapest furniture you will ever own and the kind you will want to keep.
