The Mandolin-ian.

Laziness prompted me to buy a mandolin. It did expedite the slicing of my potatoes, but at a cost of some dermis from the knuckle of my middle finger. Hubris lost me that piece of skin.

Wow, this is so easy to slice by using my hand. Why use the protector. Only dumb peo….

Worse of all, since I wasn’t done with the dish, I had to painstakingly finish the recipe with only one hand. Arranging the sliced potatoes vertically in the casserole dish can be a real spud in the butt as one might say.

For the Black Friends-day dinner the next day, I made the same potato gratin dish again. This time using the protector the entire time. I stayed whole. The dish stayed delicious (because how can it not be? It had two cups of heavy cream and another half pound of premium cheese. It’ll be difficult to make it not delicious), and life was joyous.

I guess the lesson here is that I should’ve bought a mandolin awhile ago, back when I was young, limber and heal from scrapes in half an hour rather than the six hours it took for the wound to congeal. Pride will never change.

On an tangent, I really cannot find the connection of the word mandolin the instrument versus mandolin the slicer. There is a website which claims that the tool was named because the action resembled the strumming movement of mandolin the instrument but that sounds bonkers to me.


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