May-no-naise (for Cindy Brown)
Sorry this is overdue; I may be posting less frequently for the next few months and/or asking for guest bloggers (contact me if you’re interested!) because my thesis is due soon and I really need to focus on that. But sometimes things happen that I just have to write about. This is one of those times.
My horoscope according to The Onion on April 12, 2006 proved very accurate:
Pisces:You will quickly become the most reviled villain the WWE has ever seen this week after changing your wrestling persona to that of Brian Gunderson: The Wrestler Who Staunchly Dislikes the Taste of Mayonnaise.
Not only do I “staunchly dislike” the taste of mayonnaise, I loathe it. I detest it. I refuse to chew it; I eschew it (sorry, I had to). I’m not a huge fan of condiments in general, preferring salt instead of ketchup on my fries; butter instead of mustard or the aforementioned horror on my sandwiches. I eat my hotdogs and brats with raw onions or nothing at all. But mayo is by far the worst. In fact, for nearly the first two decades of my life I didn’t like submarine sandwiches because all the ones I tried had mayo on them. It was only after I realized that I could request “no mayo” did I start to like going to Subway. And no, I don’t like Miracle Whip either. The sight of both these fatty globulous (gag) gelatinous goos makes me throw up a little in my mouth.
Unfortunately, not everyone agrees with me or understands where I am coming from. Sandwich artists or hoagie artisans or grinder craftsmen or BLT builders are so used to slathering their creations with this goop that even when I tell them “no mayo,” or “hold the mayo, please,” or even, “I’m allergic to mayo* so please don’t even use a knife that has mayo on it to cut my sandwich,” I know I have a 40/60 chance that there will be mayo on my bread. I’m sorry, I mean in my bread, since mayo is composed of some kind of plasmic matter that bonds with the bread molecules and forms a new compound that cannot be torn asunder, no matter how much knife scraping or bread shaving one does. It’s stronger than super glue. Mark my words: in the event of a nuclear disaster, mayo and cockroaches will survive. In fact, they will probably create a new species (okay, if that didn’t make you gag, you have an iron stomach).
Finding mayo on my sandwich brings out the diva in me. I can’t help it. I don’t like that it happens, but I’ve fought this battle my whole life** and I’m not as strong as mayo seems to be. It’s not like a tomato or sprouts, which you can pick off with relative ease. Mayo is here to stay.
“It’s just eggs and oil, Sarah,” my mom pointed out, after one of my many encounters with the congealment***. “My friend was in the Peace Corps and she used it as a substitute in her baking because they didn’t have access to eggs and oil.”
First of all, there is also vinegar, which I also don’t like (see condiments above). Secondly, how often do you just sit and eat eggs and oil? I like chocolate cake and I like chicken noodle soup, but I’m pretty sure I don’t want chocolate cake in my soup. If I were in the Peace Corps, I would probably (bleag) use mayo as an egg-and-oil substitute too. Who am I kidding? If it comes down to eating a mayo sandwich or starving, I’m headed for size 00. There isn’t anything else that I can think of on/with/in/alongside as common a meal as sandwiches that a) comes standard and b) is impossible to remove.****
Recently, I met up with my friend Cindy Brown and during the course of our appetizers we discovered that we both have a hatred of mayo. I feel closer to her because of this, like mayo-infused bread. I feel like we should get sandwiches or something.
There’s still time to contact me about a blog post that you’d like to see. I only got one response to that and I didn’t post on it because it was a request for something politics-related and I’m sorry, but that’s one area that’s off-limits for me. At least with this blog. But I encourage you to write in on other things! Or if you find something funny/interesting/bizarre/humorous/witty/droll/etc. send it my way! I love hearing that stuff. You can reach me here in the comments or via email at email@example.com
*I’m not allergic to it, and I’m not trying to diminish the situation for people who have food allergies–I sympathize completely. You’d think that saying you’re allergic to something would guarantee you a HazMat-level clearance for that substance, but no. It almost makes it worse.
**That and leaving the “h” off my name. I get that there are two spellings***** but since there are really only two spellings, is it that hard to, I don’t know, check before filling out my nametag? The worst offenders are the ones who respond to an email at my email address, which lists my first name and which I always sign off from with a “Sarah,” and they spell it without an “h.” That’s just lazy. And rude. Actually, it may be tied with the people who, when I tell them there’s an “h,” add it in the middle. Seriously? Who has the name Sahra?
***I initially had “congealization” but WordPress does not like that. But apparently, congealment is okay. Also, the WordPress spellchecker thinks “frequently” and “accurate” are complex expressions, so it might not be the best editor.
****If you know of anything else, let me know. I would love to be wrong on this.
*****I know there’s some people with the name “Sera” or “Cera” or even, amazingly, Sahra (see above), but really it’s Sarah or Sara. I know people with both spellings. I love people with both spellings. Mine just happens to have an “h.”