Yesterday, I made mayonnaise. I’ve never seen it made, unless you count the hectic shots of a harried chef on TV whipping some up in a blender with 9 seconds to go before plating. I knew it was an emulsion, that egg yolks and much vigorous whisking were involved, but other than that, no real idea of how it was to be done.

I just bought Anthony Bourdain’s last cookbook, Appetites. My intent is to write a separate post about him, but I am planning on cooking as much of his food in the near future as I can. It’s been really hot in the Kingdom the last couple of weeks, so I’ve been trying to keep cooking to a minimum. That is another frustration- when I have the time to cook during the summer, it gets stifling hot in a matter of minutes in my tiny house.

Not being a salad- of virtually any kind save the potato and fruit varieties- fan at all, I usually skip over that section in cookbooks. But, Bourdain. I could see what he’s got going on for salad.

And I find the iceberg wedge. Right on. That is my kind of salad. No frills. No pretense. Lettuce, pancetta, fried shallots, parsley, dressing of blue cheese. Simple. Checks all the boxes- creamy, crunchy, crisp, bitter, funky.

But this post is about mayonnaise. Of which you need for the dressing of this most delightful of salads. And who better to take mayonnaise making instruction from than the classically trained badass, Bourdain? So I turned to page 209 and got going.

I won’t keep you in suspense. My first attempt was a complete and total failure. I was determined to create my beautiful mayonnaise with nothing but the most basic of tools- a bowl, and a whisk. A liquid measuring cup from which to slowly pour in the oil. And all went well for all of 20 seconds. I had vastly underestimated the skill it takes to move the right side of your body energetically, while maintaining calm and steady control on the left side. The oil would be gently streaming, and the whisk would be working away, and then my body would snap back on the same wavelength long enough for the stream to become a splash, and then…well, I think it was over long before I realized.

 

For my second attempt I featured the blender. My whisking arm was burning, and my pride was a bit bruised, but I was determined. Of course, Bourdain doesn’t even hint at the use of technology in the making of his mayonnaise, but I figured if I could pull it off,  I would know what to look for, and then I could backwards design my technique with the basic bowl/whisk set up. Which, of course, is the only way to make homemade mayonnaise and be able to boast about it.

No go. Really sloppy, messy mess. When the emulsion broke, oil and yolk flew everywhere, and even a few extra yolks thrown in couldn’t save it.

And so on to attempt number three. And, as they say, third time was the charm 🙂 I decided to go back to the whisk and bowl method, but not just any bowl was going to do. I reached for the bowl that my grandmother had had, and my mom before me, and that now enjoyed the status of favorite kitchen piece in my house. Surely if I was going to pull this off, this was the bowl in which to do it.

So, armed with the knowledge gained from failure- two spectacular ones in very short order- and my beloved bowl, I set to work again. And I was able to coordinate the technique much better, and when my whisking arm tired, I took breaks. And mopped my brow. And heaved great sighs. And questioned whether the result could possibly be worth the effort. And then! I could see the mayonnaise come together, and stay together. The oil didn’t have to stream steadily in, I could pour a little and whisk it in, then pour a little more, until it was all incorporated. And lo and behold, there before me was a bowl of beautiful, glossy, shiny, classic, mayonnaise.

From start to finish, this mini project took me nearly an hour. And credit must go to my boy, who helped take pictures, and patiently held the bowl in one place during my third go. Now, as for whether the effort was worth it. Taste and texture- wise…maybe. Because mayonnaise is simply egg yolks, vinegar, dry mustard(at least in Bourdain’s version), salt, and oil, every ingredient should be the best possible. If I were to make this again, I would for sure use a better oil- higher end grapeseed, perhaps. What I can confidently say, however, is that this challenge was absolutely worth pushing through until the end, because of all I learned on my way to the final result. Shake off the failures and start again. Learn from mistakes. Think through problems and be willing to try something different. Mayonnaise should look like mayonnaise almost from the beginning, and if it doesn’t, it’s broken. And if you catch it quickly enough, as Bourdain suggests, an extra yolk will, in fact, bring it right back to life.