I forgot the mayonnaise.
I hate it when that happens but that’s not (exactly) what this story is about.
Lunch. Kay Ace came over for lunch. I carved off some roasted turkey breast, some not-too-too-bad cheddar cheese, one of the marvelous Homestead tomatoes we picked up at the Flea Market, and sliced some of the faux sourdough bread I made in the bread machine the day before.
Kay is nuts. I’m not sure if I had made that clear before. She asked for mustard for her sandwich.
Nuts, I tell you.
Liz Arden poked her head in about then. “Mmm. Mustard on tomatoes and turkey. Mmmmm,” she said.
Nuts. I’m surrounded by them.
I was so befuddled, I forgot to spread the mayonnaise on my own sandwich. It was a little dry but that tomato is so good, it was still right fair. I recognized what I was missing a couple of bites in. Remedied same. Lunch was sublime even with the slight, sharp aroma of mustard wafting from the other side of the table.
Mustard has its place. Any food that begins with “ham” needs mustard which is why hamburgers need mustard (and ketchup). Ditto hot dogs although they are mostly chicken. Brats and kielbasa and soft pretzels. Meatloaf sandwiches. Cheddar cheese on Ritz crackers needs just a tiny dab and a sweet gherkin pickle or two. And one should combine it with the mayo in potato salad. Not on ice cream, though.
The Romans mixed “must” (unfermented grape juice) with ground mustard seeds to make mustum ardens which translates as “burning must.” It’s also how we got the name “must ard.”
On the other hand, Kay puts mayo on her fries. That’s just wrong.
Mayonnaise is mostly fat; a single tablespoon serving contains 90 calories. No wonder we like it so much.
Mayo does go on turkey or chicken sandwiches and is especially perfect to bed slices of hard boiled egg. One could even add slices of bananas to that. Grilled apple, bacon and provolone sandwich is made perfect by mayo. It is the basis for tartar sauce, Thousand Island, and ranch dressings. I mix it with ketchup and Worcestershire sauce to make my “Russian” dressing.
For the record, if you put mayo on steamed broccoli it tastes a little like an artichoke.
Homemade mayo will spoil after 3-4 days but the commercial concoction uses pasteurized egg yolks and has so much acid and preservatives that it will extend the life of unrefrigerated sandwiches and salads by killing bacteria.
Now to the point: the vast squeeze bottle conspiracy.
I finally went back to the kitchen and put a dab of mayo on my sandwich.
Actually, that’s not exactly true. I tried to put a little dab of mayo on my sandwich and ended up with a monstrous glob of the stuff in the shape of the Great State of Texas on the bread.
I am disappointed.
The mayo folks have learned what the mustard folks have known for years. Why sell 32 ounces when you can sell 24 for the same price? In fact, why not water down the product a little so it squirts easier? After all, we’ll sell more.
In our next episode, Why doesn’t chocolate cake batter taste like chocolate cake?