Mayonnaise Fascist

I need to vocalize this grievance that I have internalized for quite some time.

I absolutely detest mayonnaise.

In ALL of it’s forms.


As an impressionable youth, many things have I sampled out of hunger, curiosity, or inescapable boredom. Within these culinary escapades, great discoveries can be stumbled upon (as are most discoveries in the western hemisphere, but that’s an entirely different conversation)and within the circumstances and/or methodology of said stumbling, outrageously brilliant, exotic, masterful concoctions of flavor can be enjoyed and shared amongst the washed and unwashed masses, from sea to shining sea, from everlasting to everlasting.

Mayonnaise is one of the foulest creations that has ever been allowed to exist.

Seriously, Mayonnaise. Mayo. French Goo. I hate them. I hate them all, including mayo’s snooty Mediterranean cousin, Aoli. A great family of great ruiners of great and crappy food.

The city of my birth, my beloved New Orleans, has given to the world the Po Boy sandwich, a sandwich that Catholic nuns gave to homeless orphans. Out of that struggle and suffering, the Po Boy eventually became a hit and arguably, one of the signature flavors of New Orleans.

HOWEVER, somewhere along the line, the making of this sandwich came to include copious amounts of mayonnaise. This, along with shredded lettuce, and tomato slices, whatever kind of meat that one would desire for this sandwich, stuck between two halves of a baguette that are slathered with filthy, disgusting, horrible tasting, messy as hell, weird smelling, motherfucking MAYO.

When I say that I hate mayo in all of it’s forms, it is not an exaggeration. I hate these mayonnaise-based and mayonnaise-adjacent condiments and sauces (and dishes, too):

Ranch Dressing: Exactly what the hell is Ranch dressing, and why is it eaten so much here in the U.S?

Buttermilk Dressing: There’s no buttermilk in this product, yet there is mayonnaise. Plus, who’s idea was it to take slightly spoiled milk and turn it into a salad dressing?

Bleu Cheese Dressing: I like Bleu Cheese (I like Stilton, too!). Someone got the idea that they didn’t want to eat the cheese straight up, or as part of a charcuterie board, or even melted on a sandwich…no, they want Bleu Cheese flavored mayonnaise. Bleu Cheese…..from a squeeze bottle.

Just pitiful.

Honey Mustard: Yes, the deceptive title of this condiment has lulled the masses into thinking that there are only two ingredients within it’s golden-brownish-yellow alluring facade. But, Lo! Behold the hidden anti-flavor amid the mix: bitch-ass mayo. Supposedly, it’s an addition to honey mustard so that the texture is creamy. Boo hoo. My condiment isn’t the texture of greek yogurt that’s been left out of the refrigerator too long. In that mindset, we find the roots of the roots of the decline of society at large.

Potato Salad: I will only eat mustard potato salad, and only if there is the most minimal amount of mayo in it. The need for creaminess in food has gone beyond fever pitch, and I fear for all nations, as they continue to turn away from their deities, in pursuit of this agent of malaise that takes over every flavor profile. Everything that has mayo in it TASTES like it has mayo in it. Why does this so-called “condiment” have such an identity crisis, yet absolutely must make it’s presence prominent?

Sriracha Mayonnaise: This concoction is blasphemous. It is for individuals that think that garlic powder is exotic, and that curry is extraterrestrial. If you can’t handle spicy…then don’t eat spicy! Those that can eat fire shall eat fire with ease.

Thousand Island Dressing: This faraway hellscape of a condiment is a mixture of ketchup, pickle relish, and the French concoction of egg whites and oil that draws my ire and has inspired me to direct my seething hatred into this blog post: ‘Ol punk-ass mayo. This deception is known by several different monikers, however, I shall not state them here, for here in the U.S. there is a very powerful corporate entity that deals in fast food, and I would rather not suffer the slings and arrows of a defamation lawsuit…or have a bunch of hamburger peddling clowns show up to my house.

Fake Mayo: or Sandwich Spread….you can’t even be honest about what you are, or what you’re trying to be. You wanna be mayo, but there’s none of the actual ingredients that make up mayo, or the quality of said ingredients are so poor that calling whatever this condiment is by the name mayonnaise would not be legal.

Tartar Sauce: Thousand Island Dressing’s unsophisticated cousin that only comes by whenever there’s a fish fry. Hides among lemon wedges. Sometimes seen in the company of Old Bay, of the northeast U.S. Also,it always has a pack of menthol cigarettes in it’s pearl snap shirt breast pocket.

Mayo sucks. It should not be allowed to spread its lies based upon it’s lack of confidence in it’s own existence. This has caused much suffering in the lives of many, as well as my own. In my crusade against this culinary antichrist, I have been forced to turn my hand against many of my friends, acquaintances, and family…due to their choice to live a mayonnaise lifestyle; unashamed, before God and country. I shall not be moved. Mayo must be eradicated and cleaned from the Earth. I would like to create a world for my children that doesn’t have ambiguous flavors accompanied by slathered slime in a cacophonous symphony of a culinary black mass and ritual sacrifice in a cursed wood in some long-forgotten land. Sure.. I don’t have kids.. but I can dream.. and protest too…right…?