Nomadic Narrative

When I was a kid, I was not a picky eater, but there is one thing I’d never touch—mayonnaise.

I rediscovered the eggy emulsion when I moved to Japan. I was hesitant to eat it at first, but it was all over everything. True aficionados would even earn the Japanese moniker mayoler (マヨラー). There were reality TV shows with contestants trying to cook up the best mayonnaise recipe, and nowadays there is a popular restaurant in Tokyo that, among other mayo delights, serves up a mean “Mayogarita.” Uh, yum?

Japanese mayo is made with egg yolks, not the whites, and rice vinegar. The most popular brand is Kewpie, which I always recognize from the squeeze bottle and the naked baby logo. The naked baby logo is one of the many Japanese enigmas I have yet to explore. (Read a bit of Kewpie history on their Web site.)

When I returned to the States, I stopped eating mayonnaise again. I never had it in my fridge, always said no to it when ordering a Subway sandwich, and never squeezed it onto my fingertip to indulge in a dollop of the creamy goodness. Now, I’ve once again rediscovered the dietary crusher.

Costa Rican mayonnaise is creamy like its Japanese counterpart. It’s made from whole eggs, soy oil and vinegar. Colorful squeeze packets line the shelves tempting passerbys with unique flavors such as “lime” and “smoked.”

This unfair trend to the waistline is crossing into the States. Read the wonderful LA Times article which lists nine different recipes for flavored mayonnaise!

I don’t know why I added the exclamation mark; it’s bad enough with the flavorful selection I have at my fingertips, and on my fingertips, these days.