Thursday, August 8, 2013

Mandolines Suck

I bought one.

A mandoline, that is. With an 'e', you'll notice. Last thing I need is another bloody musical instrument around the house. Besides, I think we've got a mandolin. Maybe two. I know we loaned one out sort of permanently, but I suspect the other one is still lurking.

But I was in a kitchen shop, y'see. Helping Genghis pick out a present for the Mau-mau, whose eighth birthday approaches with freight-train rapidity. (Are freight trains fast? All of 'em I've ever seen are slow, clunkitty bastards, fit only for blockading level crossings at great length when you're trying to get past.) And while I was there, I thought: I keep hearing from people just how convenient these mandoline things are. And here's one on sale. I'll get it.

Stupid bloody idea. It's fiddly, and dangerous. I cut myself in three places tonight making shoestring fries for the kids. I will admit that it was marginally faster than Mister Cleaver, and it did produce more evenly sized fries... but really, the savings in time wasn't much, and the evenness of the fries isn't exactly a factor of interest. (Still. They were skinny. So they cooked fast. That was good.)

But as for anything else... well, sod it. I can't really see the point. Stupid, clunky, clumsy device with unnecessary bladey bits and all kinds of ergonomic handling issues. Pfeh. It will go up on top of the storage area, to be used only on the rare occasions when I feel like making shoestring fries... maybe twice a year.

And in other news, it looks as though we may be heading towards Renovation Hell once more. Natalie has finally noticed that there's not really enough space in our dining room for the piano and all the various computers and the electronic soldering table and the Lego and the puzzles and the bass and the cello and the violin and the trumpet and the dining table and chairs...

... so we may, assuming the costings are reasonable and Council doesn't freak out, wind up adding an actual dining room. That would be truly marvellous, despite the inevitable horrors associated with renovation.

Other than that? Early cherry trees are blossoming in Launceston. Daffodils and jonquils are shooting up all over the place. The hills are showing the first hints of wattle gold. Soon I shall be sneezing like a motherfucker. In other words: don't panic, people who are tired of the cold -- Spring isn't far away.

Time to buy some anti-snotergenic drugs.

16 comments:

  1. Heh. All mandolines are not created equal. Of course, the nice ones aren't cheap OR likely to go on sale. Good luck on the renovations and on snot-season. I'm so glad I can get by with nettle infusions to handle my allergies. Always excepting maple trees, which do me in pretty thoroughly.

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    1. Nettle infusions?

      That sounds... weird.

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  2. I believe then metaphoric nature of freight trains is related not as much to the speed but to the inevitability of them crushing all before them with their ponderous momentum.

    Mandolines seem like a tool for the Masterchef generation who want to make a specific side dish i.e: Shoe string fries, but can not invest the time or focus to learn the skill to cut such fries using more common kitchen implements. There is nothing wrong with using such a tool, but it would seem to me to be and example of 'baroque' thinking (an adjective you introduced me to in regards to the design of the American Shuttlecraft)about how to perform a task. Develop a single use tool, with limited utility and fiddly in use and design rather than something to hold the potato or position the knife and with practice learn to do it without any other tool.

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    1. Yep. That about describes it. You don't see Gordon fucking Ramsay slashing about with a fucking mandoline, do you? Fuck no! Gordon fucking Ramsay knows how to use a fucking knife.

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  3. Mandolines are all right. If you want a stupid, clunky, clumsy "musical" instrument then try playing a sousaphone. I can tell you from bitter experience that the result is not as romantic or exciting as first anticipated. Chicks do NOT dig sousaphones. Sousaphones do NOT put them "in the mood." Don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise. I fantasize about finding John Philip Sousa, punching him square in the nose, and demanding my money back.

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    1. Oompah oompah ooompah ooompah... sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of Gordon fucking Ramsay and that fucking Sousaphone.

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  4. Mandolines are the best way known to remove fingertips and their attendant fingerprints. I'll stick with a knife thanks.

    Sousaphone, tuba, euphonium, french horn = not sexy instruments. In fact the only sexy instruments known are the Saxophone, guitar (played loud), and maybe the bass guitar. Everything esle just scares the ladies away.

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    1. Pianos aren't portable enough. And pianists can be a tad self absorbed. Besides, it's hard to leap about shaking one's groove thang whilst pianoing.

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  5. I knew a french horn player who killed with the ladies. Always popular at parties. I hated the bloke.

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    1. Bit hard on the ladies though, don't you think?

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    2. Depends on how he used his french horn.

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  6. Hard? His french horn got them in bed; I have no idea how he performed.

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    1. Given some of the horn players I've known...he probably did well for himself then, if no one else.

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    2. You're not implying he was blowing his own horn, are you? Because a pun of that level is likely to send the NSA monitors into a killing frenzy...

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