To the Editors:
I am writing to express my dismay at The Chronicle’s unwarranted and ill-advised takedown of the condiment mayonnaise (“Wrecking Ball: Mayonnaise,” November 13, 2025). Certainly, mayonnaise is a divisive food item, one that engenders impassioned proponents and equally die-hard detractors. However, it is reckless to give voice to the anti-mayonnaise contingent without allowing the glossy condiment’s supporters to weigh in. I am here to speak for those unvoiced multitudes whose lives would be sorely diminished were it not for the widespread availability of the substance under discussion.
Let us examine the origins of mayonnaise. Chronicle writer Alina Wilhelm questions in her piece “what cruel person came up with the deranged idea to combine eggs and oil,” and the answer (circa 1845) is: the French, who have also given us such epicurean delights as the croissant, ratatouille, and pommes frites–the last of which is particularly good when dipped into a ramekin of mayonnaise while still hot. How could an entire nation of gastrophiles be wrong? If you don’t believe me, go order the fries at 715 downtown, and let yourself be amazed.
Perhaps Ms. Wilhelm approaches the subject from the wrong perspective. I, too, am grossed out (to put it bluntly) by the thought of a spoonful of mayo consumed directly from the jar; unadorned and unaccompanied, mayonnaise certainly has no appeal to even its most ardent admirer. But mayonnaise was never intended to be consumed thusly. Can you evaluate the quality of steak as a food by consuming it raw? The texture of mayonnaise, oily and fatty, demands to be countered by, for instance, the crisped, neutral flavor of grilled bread. Mayonnaise complements other food items by textural contrast and through emulsification of other flavors. Though not quite an umami flavor profile, mayo boasts a richness such as only raw egg yolks can provide (this is gastronomical truth), one that can only be described as luxuriant–decadent even. Stir a spoonful of it into your batter the next time you make a batch of brownies, and you will be surprised at how it enhances even the richness of this classic delight. The presence of vinegar and lemon juice balances this richness, providing the deep tang that aficionados of this condiment prize so highly. For the best homemade oven-fries known to humankind, toss raw thick-cut potato sticks in a light slick of mayonnaise, spread evenly on a parchment-lined baking sheet, and roast at 400 degrees for about 40 minutes or until golden and crisp. Toss with kosher salt, coarse black pepper, slivered garlic, shredded parmesan, and chopped rosemary or parsley, and roast or broil for a few more minutes, until the parmesan is bubbling. You’ll never want McDonald’s fries again. And, of course, mayo, alone or mixed with ketchup or dijon mustard, enhances a good hamburger like no other substance can. A simple coating of dijonnaise makes for the best grilled chicken breasts, which otherwise tend to dry up during the grilling process. After a quick searing to seal in the chicken’s natural juices, your dijonnaise chicken breasts will come off the grill with full flavor intact. (For best results, try grilling each chicken breast butterflied atop a stem of fresh rosemary, but be forewarned that the chicken will cook quickly at a high heat. Keep a meat thermometer handy.)
And let’s not forget that an otherwise dry and unpalatable sandwich can be made tolerable with a single simple swipe of mayonnaise across the interior surface of one slice of bread.
In closing, I must say that I pity those Chronicle readers who, after having read Ms. Wilhelm’s article, will have gotten the wrong idea about this most glorious of condiments and therefore fear to embrace its greatness. On behalf of the brave, the bold, the undaunted seekers of the palatable delights of this world, I say: bring on the mayo!
