I once bonded with a complete stranger I met at a party over mayonnaise. We were friends for years after that. She also made this odd faux sweet potato dish with boiled, mashed carrots, but that’s not the important issue, here. What’s important is that we bonded over our mutual, excessive and probably psychologically worrisome love for mayonnaise.
Now, a few definitions are in order. Miracle Whip is not mayonnaise. It couldn’t even dream of being mayonnaise in its darkest fever dreams. It is a sweet goo that people who must be excused because they don’t know any better, mistake for mayonnaise. Mayonnaise is not sweet. Also, besides something hand made like the nectar of the gods served at Cassilles Hamburgers on sixth street in downtown Los Angeles, unless the mayonnaise is Best Foods (oddly called Hellman’s east of the Rockies) Real Mayonnaise, it isn’t the best.
I realize my mayonnaise addiction isn’t rational. (What addiction is? To paraphrase Kenneth Halliwell in Prick Up Your Ears, the whole point of an addiction is to not make sense.) Roommates have been known to hide the household stash from me. In stronger days, I’ve rationed it by buying the very small, much more expensive jars. I’ve even gone great periods of time without mayonnaise, but then someone will bring a jar to a picnic or pot luck and I’m off.
I can make a salad out of anything. Ever thought of corn salad? Frozen sweet corn (thawed, of course), garlic, a touch of onion, salt, pepper and mayonnaise. Sometimes, for pep, I squeeze a very small spot of yellow mustard into it. Pea salad? Same concept, no mustard, but you can add basil, parsley and a touch of sage and thyme to that. (Just a touch, you don’t want to actually tasted the sage and thyme, it’s there for a hint not a flavor.)
I’ve put mayonnaise in mashed potatoes. I’ve put it on mashed banana sandwiches. I learned this treat from my Grandpa Hoff, who also, sometimes, added peanut butter to the mix. Also, sandwiches made from dill pickles sliced lengthwise and cheddar cheese with thinly sliced white onions and a healthy dollop of mayonnaise. Trust me on this one. I’ve converted many people to it. Not so many to the whole banana peanut butter thing. Most people simply aren’t that adventurous, culinarily speaking.
My mother used to make this warm German potato salad. She was very proud of it. No, she wasn’t German. I think it was a leftover part of the pact between Hitler and Italy before the fall of Mussolini. I hated it. First, it was warm. Second, it had no mayonnaise in it, which, as far as I’m concerned, is the main reason for the existence of potato salad. Sort of like popcorn’s only positive attribute is as a vehicle to bring butter into the system, but that’s a subject for another post. Potato salad should contain potatoes for substance, chopped celery for crunch, chopped dill pickles or olives for salt and pep, and mayonnaise. (I also like to add some spices like salt, pepper, garlic and onion, but I’m Italian, and that sort of goes without saying. I said it anyway. I’m verbose that way.)
Due to several varied health issues, I’ve given up cheese (very difficult), bread (relatively difficult), chicken skin (I usually say a small benediction over it before tossing it down the garbage disposal) and several other delectable edibles, but not mayonnaise. Perhaps some day I’ll need to. It will be a very sad day. I may have to recover with several days a-bed, wearing black pajamas and listening to Joni Mitchell and early Simon and Garfunkel albums. Until that day, I’ll continue to try to ration myself, but won’t feel too very guilty when I notice another jar has mysteriously been emptied.
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Geoff Hoff is co-author of the best selling satirical novel Weeping Willow: Welcome to River Bend
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27 Comments
You know, Geoff, you don’t have to give up mayonnaise if you make it yourself. Just make it out of pasture-raised eggs and a healthy oil like olive or grapeseed. I’d suggest coconut oil… but I can’t imagine that tasting right! It’s easy with a hand-blender.
Funny this is one of your addictions… as this is the ONE food I don’t like! The only way I like it is either totally hidden in the food (as in tuna salad or egg salad), or homemade as I described.
I have made it myself, with extra virgin olive oil, cyanne pepper, red wine vinegar and egg. It’s much too wonderful to have around that way, though. If you ever get to LA, try a trip to Casselles just west of downtown on 6th! You won’t hate that one.
Hi Geoff,
LOL, great mayo post!! ;-D
Claus
Geoff -
Loved your mayo post
I have been known to have a tomato, onion, salt, pepper & mayo sandwich on occasion!
I do not care for mayo in excess though – I bought a sandwich from Arby’s last week and was dismayed to open it and find more mayo than sandwich!
Another thing…
I have always wondered why adding mayonnaise makes something a “salad”!?
Barb,
The word salad comes from the vulgar Latin for salt and has come to mean stuff thrown together, then “salted” with some sort of dressing. Mayonnaise, as far as I’m concerned, is sufficient dressing to call any small bits of something in a bowl, with added mayo, a salad.
As for too much in a sandwich, I’m with you there, actually. When there is so much mayonnaise that it all squishes out on to your shirt, it is useless and the perpetrator should be slapped.
Geoff
Oh Geoff, we DO share more than one addiction! If pimiento cheese is the Glue that Holds the South Together, Hellman’s is the mayo that makes it possible. Tomato sandwiches simply must have homemade – with the tomatoes just picked and still warm from the sun. And whoever heard of a peanut butter and banana sandwich WITHOUT mayo? (That’s a given if you’re an aficionado of that particular delicacy.)
I should have done so years ago. I could have been hosting parties and organizing pride parades. PBB&M Pride forever! “We’re here! We like peanut butter, banana and mayo sandwiches! Get over it!” Doesn’t quite have the necessary poetic ring. I’ll have to work on the slogan.
Cool Post I willl share with my brother he is a big fan of Mayo
You would have gotten along well in Ecuador – they put mayonnaise on EVERYTHING, especially French Fries (Papas Fritas). They look at you weird if you ask for ketchup (salsa de tomate) for your fries. For the ultimate grease-fest, order the Salchi-papas – french fries with two inch pieces of hot dog (which are cooked in the oil alongside the fries) and smothered in mayo.
Also, if you use the words “mayonnaise” and “hair” in the same sentence, it’s guaranteed to get a laugh. Guaranteed.
Geoff, thank you for making me laugh. I am also a fan of Mayo, and neither Leslie nor her sister will allow any but Best Foods into the house. Not sure if you know that Mom was also a fan of liverwurst (now it seems to be called Braunschweiger in all the stores. And prunes are now dried plums. Get a stomach, people.), and I follow her there, with, of course, Mayo.
Hi, Liam.
Oh, yes, I remember liverwurst, onion and mayo! Mom would put it on good pumpernickel bread. I have no idea why I don’t still eat that. I can taste it right now.
I’m glad I made you laugh.
Geoff
Wow. I almost missed this blog! I’m also a mayo freak, but I don’t discriminate a lot. Some mayos, though, do have sugar, and that’s just wrong.
Num num num. We luuuuuuv LMP.*
*(Liverwurst, mayo, and pumpernickel.)
That was my tummy. She wishes to thank Liam and Geoff for reminding me to craft an LMP sammidge as soon as possible after reading this. After 30 years of unintentional abstinence therefrom, I am most happy to be back in liverwurst’s thrall. Even though I can’t even type “braunschweiger” without adding a mental “gesundheit.”
Geoff,
Love the article. I’m the same way with Hot Sauce.
Be true to you!
Mr. Twenty Twenty
Mr. Twenty Twenty – thanks! I like hot sauce, but don’t have nearly the sophisticated pallet for them as I might. Some are simply hot for hot’s sake, and I just don’t get that. I like a hot sauce that adds not only spice but flavor.
Rebecca – how was your LMP?
The LMP was deelish, thanks for asking! Matter of fact, you’ve emboldened me to try a PBB&M. I’m a bit trepidatious but then again, who would ever think liverwurst would taste as good as it does?
Rebecca, the PBB&M should be constructed in a specific sequence in order to have a solid foundation. The bread (white only, please!) goes down first, then the PB. (If you mayo the bread, the PB only slides around.) The mayo layer skims ever so lightly across the PB deck. This is to be done on both slices of WB. Then comes the banana topping, sliced, on one bread only, atop the mayo skrim. Gently flip the other WB, PB and M strata atop the one with the banana slices, and you’ve got one hella sandwich.
Much obliged, Liz. I can see how easily I could have turned that one into a shrieking disaster of a sandwich without your tips!
Liz and Geoff, I finally took the PBB&M plunge. Darn good!
On a whim I added homemade thinly sliced pickles to half of the sandwich and that really clinched the deal for me. I hope that doesn’t make your inner PBB&M purist cringe!
Geoff, outside of mayo territory, thanks for sharing your blog with us. It always makes me smile. And, occasionally, cook.
Miracle Whip is not mayonnaise. But, it is, in many instances, a better choice of spread!
Let the flame war begin!
Okay, Dave –
Sometimes, at night, LATE at night, possibly after some libations, a LOT of libations, I admit that I have indulged in the sweet goo called Miracle Whip. I will not stipulate to it being a better choice (hey, I’ve worked with lawyers, I can say stipulate) but I do make this guilty confession if only to welcome you to my site. Now never mention it again.
Unless you do.
Geoff
Dave,
You inspired me to figure out why I’ve always been so anti-Miracle Whip. I was surprised to learn that MW has substantially the same ingredients as mayo, just with sugar.
Now a question for the mayo purists: if we can add anchovies, pickles, capers, and garlic to mayonnaise all in the name of making a remoulade or salad dressing, why are we soooo freaked out by adding sugar?
And a question for you, Dave: do you still eat regular mayo? Are there some foods you prefer with MW vs. those you prefer with mayo?
In my mind, Americans add sugar to far too many things as it is. You’d be surprised what products have sugar in them. Toothpaste even did at one time. Keep it savory, for goodness sake! That’s my thought.
I’m relieved there are others out there that have this irrational love for mayo. I eat it by the spoon, and sometimes I eat just mayo sandwiches. But I’m surprised you could give up cheese so easily!!
Question, do you like brownies too? Because that is another irrational addiction I have. If you do we are twins
Elaine, it wasn’t easy to give up cheese, just necessary. I have also eaten Mayo with a spoon and in a sandwich by itself. And I’ve dipped hot dogs in the mayo jar to give them a good coat.
I like brownies (another thing I can’t eat, wheat and I no longer agree) but not to the degree of mayo. I’m more a savory guy than a sweet guy. Take that as want.