The Magic of Making Mayonnaise

The first time I made my own mayonnaise it felt downright magical. I must have read something in Cuisine or Gourmet magazine and decided to give it a try. I had no understanding of the science of emulsions, and I was about to find out. I was already using my blender to make pesto (THE sauce of the 80s) so why not mayonnaise? I used my precious extra virgin olive oil, and though now every household in America has a big jug of it from Costco, in those days you had to go to Dean and Delucca or Zabar’s to get it. The olive oil gave the mayonnaise a distinct flavor that I liked, but it was a far cry from what I was used to. It was luscious and smooth, heavy and rich. It was alchemy.

In these days of endless food scares it is probably difficult to imagine using raw eggs without concern, but life was simpler back in the late 1900s. We got our recipes from books and magazines. Our news came via papers or television (I had seven channels to choose from). My grocery store in Brooklyn carried a few brands of mayonnaise, Hellmann’s, Miracle Whip, Kraft and the store brand. Making homemade mayonnaise made me exotic and edgy; a real gourmet.

A few years later at my diner, The Hungry Moon, we ran out of mayonnaise one day. I doubt you’ve owned a diner, but believe me when I say that running out of mayonnaise at a diner is an emergency. There wasn’t time to run to the store, so I said I’d make some. Ronnie, one of the waitresses was skeptical “You can’t make mayonnaise” “Sure you can” I said “Hellman’s makes it, and so can we”. I gathered my few ingredients and Ronnie continued to voice her disbelief, she was sure it wasn’t going to work. It doesn’t take long to make mayo in a blender or food processor, though you do have to take your time while the emulsion is forming. She stood over me watching the entire process, and when I was done she couldn’t believe that I had turned the oil, vinegar and egg into a white creamy anything. Naturally she didn’t like it, but she had to admit it was mayonnaise.

When I got to culinary school making mayonnaise was a regular part of our routine starting in Skills Development (our first hands on cooking class) where we mastered all the mother sauces. We’d make it by hand which is a long and tedious process. In Fish Kitchen taught by the terrifying and tyrannical Corky Clark I was tasked with making it one day, and I asked my partner to hold the bowl for me so I could whisk with my left hand, and Corky appeared behind me and bellowed at us “Do you think when you’re working in a restaurant they’re going to pay two of you to make mayonnaise?” I was beyond intimidated by this man who yelled at almost all of us on a regular basis, but I summoned up my nerve and said “No Chef, I think the dishwasher will make it in the food process” which is exactly what happens in restaurants where they make their own mayonnaise.

All these years later I’m not sure why it was necessary for us to make mayonnaise over and over by hand; you learn the lesson the first time you do it. The science of emulsions is that of suspending fat molecules in water, or in the case of mayonnaise in vinegar. The egg acts as the stabilizer that holds this marvel together. As anyone who has a bottle of homemade dressing knows fat and water do not like to stay together, and mayonnaise defies that.

Mayonnaise probably seems quite pedestrian as sauces go. Now that we’re well into the 21^st century we regularly are wowed by lobster or some other foam, or saffron vapor, and all the wonders of molecular gastronomy wrought using nitrogen, confectioners, stabilizers and all manner of things far beyond my ken. These things are wondrous and impressive, and available to those willing to shell out lots of money for tiny, exquisite orbs of intense flavors (not that I’m jealous) but for me mayonnaise remains the culinary miracle I can pull off any time I want.