I have duck fat rendering in the oven and mused about a duck fat mayo. So I asked Google, and look what the AI spit up: "Duck fat mayonnaise is a rich, savory alternative to traditional seed-oil-based mayo."
Gaaaah. Seed-oil madness strikes again. (And the article it cites, at Serious Eats, has nary a word about seed oils.)
P.S. Since I'm rendering with the skin, there will be Quacklins.
What, no mention of Blue Plate!? That's our house brand. Why? Because my beau does not like homemade mayonnaise! Which I grew up on, for artichoke leaf dipping, for the best cheese sandwich every, for just sticking the biggest spoon in the container when no one else was around, ending up with globs of it on my face (tanning not attempted, ever). Please teach my beau that homemade is best, forget the Best Foods, forget the Hellman's (and how many kids watched that t.v. ad intently waiting for the exact moment to turn down the sound so that only the front half of the name was said and then we'd all crack up), and forget Blue Plate.
When I was in college, olive oil was the tanning oil of choice for the young men at the yacht club in Beirut. My favorite sunburn remedy was vinegar. I guess it made me smell like a salad.
If the boys of Beirut smelled of olive oil and you had the vinegar and wound up smelling like salad...it makes me wonder how much dressing was involved. And how much undressing.
Speedos and itsy bitsy bikinis were de rigueur. Being very proper and prudish in those days, the closest permitted contact was sitting on a lap and maybe some friendly clothed wrestling.
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, where mayo is basically a hot sauce. And I remember discovering, while leafing through a cookbook in my early 20s, that a person can actually *make* mayonnaise. I guess I thought it had to come from the lab or something? (I knew a person could make ketchup, or at least Marjorie Main could, because I’d watched Meet Me in St Louis.)
Anyway: your recipe looks far more interesting than the one I first discovered in the Better Homes & Gardens cookbook. I’m saving it for the next time I need the good mayo.
I would have fit right in growing up in your neck of the woods, given my childhood aversion to anything spicy. Or interesting.
Also, I just want you to know that you're not the first man with similar cinematic sensibilities to bring up that ketchup scene to me this month. I think I can smell a small community forming.
But did you get a good tan? Those tanning ads were really somethin’. We were a Hellman’s family. But baby oil was the thing we all grabbed —that, and a double album jacket covered in aluminum foil held under the chin to speed the process.
My husband’s grandmother used to rub mayo on the grandkids any time they got a sunburn! Lol! She also wiped down her houseplants with a dab of it. But she was an Okie, so…
Mrs. Hoffart knew whereof she spoke. As a Midwestern WASP, it is my cultural prerogative to have a white bread and mayo sandwich from time to time, but I have NEVER bought a jar of Miracle Whip. I knew my sister-in-law was not good enough for my brother when I found Miracle Whip in her fridge. Alas, dear reader, he married her anyway. They divorced 6 years later.
Funny, my sister just said that she feared no one but me would know what she meant when she said “Prince Spaghetti Day,” but I “reassured” her by telling her I was sure that was really an age thing. 😣
We used to lie out on a reflecting blanket from our camping kit, made into a shallow pool by having the hose run continuously over it while gently cradled in the grass, covered in Hawaiian tropics SPF4 with the transistor radio playing KFRC. I was forced into wearing sunscreen by my very blonde, pale skinned mother. I’m grateful to her, but I still have old lady skin damage on my arms and hands and a couple scary things removed over the years. Pale Scottish people are not meant to bask in the sun!
I was just going to say "but Duke's!" My best friend from high school (in NC) now lives in San Francisco and he tells me that thankfully Duke's is available online. Otherwise how would you make pimento cheese spread?
For the past few summers I've had Duke's shipped to me specifically for tomato sandwiches. This year, however, I'm going to stick with making my own and see how it goes.
By the bye, have you ever had pimento cheese spread? Aforementioned friend says that whenever he makes and serves it to any previously deprived west coast folks, they have actual FITS.
Solidly middle class when growing up - never had anything but Miracle Whip. Favorite sandwich was peanut butter and mw on squishy white bread. I think my mother hid the marshmallow fluff for herself and I substituted for visual effect.
Now a Dukes fan, but still have mw in the fridge for tuna salad. Probably makes me a heathen.
Squishy white bread was a great love of mine. I would sometimes tear it into pieces, roll the pieces into balls, smash them flat between my thumb and forefinger, and pretend they were delicious Communion wafers.
We were a Hellmann's family. I did find a SQUEEZE TUBE of Hellmann's at my grocery store in Chinon - weren't you there with me??? - and it tasted bland. Maybe because now I buy the French mayonnaise and the French always add a bit of Dijob mustard to their JARRED mayonnaise (always in those super tiny jars, some which can be used as juice glasses once the mayo is gone). The first time I saw my mother-in-law or maybe it was my new husband - whisking a little bowl of ingredients to make their own mayonnaise (to serve over freshly sliced garden tomatoes and shredded crab meat) I was shocked and amazed. I don't even remember if I knew it could be made like that. Now I realize the French do it all the time. Especially to serve as a dip for steamed seafood. And NEVER EVER for suntan lotion.
Reminds me of the joke about the boy who covered himself in Crisco (he thought it would make him taller).
But alas, it’s shortening.
Groaning in the best possible way.
I have duck fat rendering in the oven and mused about a duck fat mayo. So I asked Google, and look what the AI spit up: "Duck fat mayonnaise is a rich, savory alternative to traditional seed-oil-based mayo."
Gaaaah. Seed-oil madness strikes again. (And the article it cites, at Serious Eats, has nary a word about seed oils.)
P.S. Since I'm rendering with the skin, there will be Quacklins.
I love me some crispy duck skin. Although AI tells me rapeseed crackling is the trend of the summer.
Sounds like the seven foods you cannot say on TV
What, no mention of Blue Plate!? That's our house brand. Why? Because my beau does not like homemade mayonnaise! Which I grew up on, for artichoke leaf dipping, for the best cheese sandwich every, for just sticking the biggest spoon in the container when no one else was around, ending up with globs of it on my face (tanning not attempted, ever). Please teach my beau that homemade is best, forget the Best Foods, forget the Hellman's (and how many kids watched that t.v. ad intently waiting for the exact moment to turn down the sound so that only the front half of the name was said and then we'd all crack up), and forget Blue Plate.
Thank you for bringing back those memories.
I love your hyper-specific New Orleans references. Blue Plate indeed!
And, oh, the lengths we children would go to for a bit of naughty fun.
A fun essay, as always but I have to ask: what does my Saskatchewan accent sound like to someone from Southern California?
To me, it sounds marvelous, because it's one of the more comforting sounds of my childhood. Mr. and Mrs. Hoffart were from Dilke, Saskatchewan.
When I was in college, olive oil was the tanning oil of choice for the young men at the yacht club in Beirut. My favorite sunburn remedy was vinegar. I guess it made me smell like a salad.
If the boys of Beirut smelled of olive oil and you had the vinegar and wound up smelling like salad...it makes me wonder how much dressing was involved. And how much undressing.
Speedos and itsy bitsy bikinis were de rigueur. Being very proper and prudish in those days, the closest permitted contact was sitting on a lap and maybe some friendly clothed wrestling.
Oh, the number of boys who wanted to “teach me to wrestle” in my younger days is a surprisingly high one.
Ah, memories.
Great story, and I agree about the MW!
Thanks, Virginia!
You know, I think Miracle Whip actually made me angry when I was a boy.
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, where mayo is basically a hot sauce. And I remember discovering, while leafing through a cookbook in my early 20s, that a person can actually *make* mayonnaise. I guess I thought it had to come from the lab or something? (I knew a person could make ketchup, or at least Marjorie Main could, because I’d watched Meet Me in St Louis.)
Anyway: your recipe looks far more interesting than the one I first discovered in the Better Homes & Gardens cookbook. I’m saving it for the next time I need the good mayo.
I would have fit right in growing up in your neck of the woods, given my childhood aversion to anything spicy. Or interesting.
Also, I just want you to know that you're not the first man with similar cinematic sensibilities to bring up that ketchup scene to me this month. I think I can smell a small community forming.
But did you get a good tan? Those tanning ads were really somethin’. We were a Hellman’s family. But baby oil was the thing we all grabbed —that, and a double album jacket covered in aluminum foil held under the chin to speed the process.
Thanks for the story and the recipe, Michael. ☀️
I always started my summers burning like an Irishman, but could end up as tan as a Turk.
Oh, the baby oil! I love that smell.
Oh you and your spoogy stories, Michael! Best with tuna.
I really should revisit that tuna-based cocktail idea. Thank for the reminder.
My husband’s grandmother used to rub mayo on the grandkids any time they got a sunburn! Lol! She also wiped down her houseplants with a dab of it. But she was an Okie, so…
So good for rubber plants, I would imagine!
Mrs. Hoffart knew whereof she spoke. As a Midwestern WASP, it is my cultural prerogative to have a white bread and mayo sandwich from time to time, but I have NEVER bought a jar of Miracle Whip. I knew my sister-in-law was not good enough for my brother when I found Miracle Whip in her fridge. Alas, dear reader, he married her anyway. They divorced 6 years later.
I'll bet that slattern of a sister-in-law served Ragu straight from the jar on Prince Spaghetti Day.
Funny, my sister just said that she feared no one but me would know what she meant when she said “Prince Spaghetti Day,” but I “reassured” her by telling her I was sure that was really an age thing. 😣
I know it and it's (barely) before my time.
Really, I just like shouting "Anthony!" out my bedroom window.
❤️🤣🤣🤣🤣
She did indeed. And she was not unacquainted with Cheez-Whiz on the hors d'oeuvre tray.
We used to lie out on a reflecting blanket from our camping kit, made into a shallow pool by having the hose run continuously over it while gently cradled in the grass, covered in Hawaiian tropics SPF4 with the transistor radio playing KFRC. I was forced into wearing sunscreen by my very blonde, pale skinned mother. I’m grateful to her, but I still have old lady skin damage on my arms and hands and a couple scary things removed over the years. Pale Scottish people are not meant to bask in the sun!
I am so grateful I wasn’t much of a sun bunny. I burn like an Irishman.
😂
🤭
I was just going to say "but Duke's!" My best friend from high school (in NC) now lives in San Francisco and he tells me that thankfully Duke's is available online. Otherwise how would you make pimento cheese spread?
For the past few summers I've had Duke's shipped to me specifically for tomato sandwiches. This year, however, I'm going to stick with making my own and see how it goes.
By the bye, have you ever had pimento cheese spread? Aforementioned friend says that whenever he makes and serves it to any previously deprived west coast folks, they have actual FITS.
The answer is "yes" and I have had the same reaction with my recipe. https://spatchcock.substack.com/p/pimento-cheese-pops
Aaaagh I remember this post now! I sent it to my friend and he said “Jesus Christ, I don't think people could handle it.”
Hahahahaha. This made me very happy. Thank you!
I like to serve it with a drink the Portuguese like to drink, so my wine guy tells me. White port over ice with tonic and a slice of lemon.
Solidly middle class when growing up - never had anything but Miracle Whip. Favorite sandwich was peanut butter and mw on squishy white bread. I think my mother hid the marshmallow fluff for herself and I substituted for visual effect.
Now a Dukes fan, but still have mw in the fridge for tuna salad. Probably makes me a heathen.
I think you are very brave, Tamie.
Squishy white bread was a great love of mine. I would sometimes tear it into pieces, roll the pieces into balls, smash them flat between my thumb and forefinger, and pretend they were delicious Communion wafers.
We were a Hellmann's family. I did find a SQUEEZE TUBE of Hellmann's at my grocery store in Chinon - weren't you there with me??? - and it tasted bland. Maybe because now I buy the French mayonnaise and the French always add a bit of Dijob mustard to their JARRED mayonnaise (always in those super tiny jars, some which can be used as juice glasses once the mayo is gone). The first time I saw my mother-in-law or maybe it was my new husband - whisking a little bowl of ingredients to make their own mayonnaise (to serve over freshly sliced garden tomatoes and shredded crab meat) I was shocked and amazed. I don't even remember if I knew it could be made like that. Now I realize the French do it all the time. Especially to serve as a dip for steamed seafood. And NEVER EVER for suntan lotion.
Must be because the French prefer Bain de Soleil Creamy Ranch for that Saint Tropez tan.