I love my mandolin - actually I love both of them..the one I play and the one I use for cooking! Mine also has a guard, but it would seem that while I've mastered it, Ken hasn't. When I had Kendra in Salt Lake at the Shriner's Hospital, he and Little Diane were on their own. So they decided that cutting up that leftover roast beef and carrots, some onions and some thin sliced potatoes must be the way I make roast beef hash, right?
Well, I got a phone call. Little Diane wanted to know if Grampa should go to the hospital. Seems he shaved off the tip of his index finger using the mandolin. Um, no, he doesn't need to to the hospital - how bad is it? "Well," she mused, "It's bleeding pretty good and he's swearing - a lot." Oh, good...then it's not serious. If he gets hurt and just stands there with his jaws clenched, THEN it's hospital time. But as long as his cusser is working, he's okay.
When I got home two days later, Ken was sporting a huge bandage on his finger. But they both proclaimed that the hash was every bit as good as what I make......then Little Diane added, "We never did find the skin off his finger, though." Oh, GROSS....I DON'T want to know that!!!