Mandolins and the much tauted julienne fry

I’m old enough to remember the original commercials for Dial-O-Matic where Ron Popeil coined the phrase, “It slices. It dices. It even makes julienne fries!” I didn’t know what julienne fries were, but I wanted to make them. Badly.

I was young and impressionable, and if the announcer was excited enough, could be convinced I needed everything from the Ronco Bagel Slicer to Ginsu carving knives, the BeDazzler Stud & Rhinestone Setter to the K-Tel Record Selector. If I heard “Wait there’s more!” I’d wait for more. And want.

Now that I’m all grown up and no longer need my mother’s permission to purchase things, I buy boutique versions of the miraculous “As Seen on TV” gadgets. Like a $60 German-made mandolin that slices, dices and juliennes with a stainless steel blade that puts Ginsu to shame. I’ve owned it a year now and it’s still razor sharp. So far I’ve slivered a field’s worth of cucumber, sliced enough carrots to make Bugs Bunny sick and julienned a truckload of potatoes – which I roasted in olive oil and fresh rosemary, or made into classic Swiss rosti. Despite the mandolin living up to its promise, something’s missing.

While I admit the mandolin saves chopping time and provides a uniform cut, I feel somewhat cheated. Sure it came with three blades and a safety holder, but where was the bonus vegetable peeler, the added paring knife or the act-now-or-you’ll-miss-out novelty blade so I can slice smiley faces into my eggplant?

Ah, for the days when $9.99 bought a cheap plastic slicer and a headful of dreams.