Tag Archives: mayonnaise

Chill out, have a snack

Whenever you’re feeling agitated, ready to jump out of your skin the next time someone so much as looks at you the wrong way, take a minute, make yourself a snack. I’ve always found that getting some food in my stomach helps get rid of ninety-nine percent of whatever’s floating around in my brain that’s causing me distress. And even then, I’ll just eat some more, and that one percent is slashed, cut down to almost zero.

gourmaise

Does your boss get on your nerves? Is he constantly telling you to do this, to work faster, to stop standing around? Make yourself a sandwich. Go ahead and add that extra slice or two of cheese, and don’t be shy with the mayo. Let Mr. Manager get his knickers in a twist, just block out that voice and take a big bite.

Yeah, it doesn’t work immediately, I mean, you’ll still have to put up with those crazy thoughts running through your head for about ten minutes or so while your stomach digests all of that delicious turkey and bacon into whatever it is that calms down the nerves, quiets those impulses to tell your boss what’s what. And yeah, during that time, you’ll still have to stand there and listen to more of that, “What, you don’t have anything to do? I’ll give you something to do. Go put this over there. OK? That’s it? Yeah, well go get that and bring it over here.”

Just try to ignore it, walk as slow as possible, give your body a chance to metabolize all of that delicious chipotle gourmaise dressing that you used instead of mayo. Did I forget to mention that? It’s not too late, even if you’ve already added mayo, add some of this gourmaise, it’s mostly mayo anyway, only it’s got tons of spices in it, man, I could eat this stuff as a dip for chips, so don’t get skimpy, it’s got a squeeze-top nozzle, and there’s plenty more where it came from.

But if your boss is like my boss, he won’t take no for an answer, even though you’re not saying no, you’re not saying anything, you’re just chewing, you’re eating that sandwich as fast as possible so maybe you won’t be so visibly angry, it won’t be as difficult to suppress that feeling of rage bubbling barely beneath the surface, in fact, you’re not really suppressing it at all, he’s yelling at you, you’re chewing, and you’re looking him dead in the eye, your eyebrows are locked in place, if you didn’t have a mouth full of cold cuts, who knows what sort of obscenities you might start hurling?

Get out of there man, just for a second, tell him you need to go to the bathroom, don’t ask for permission to go to the bathroom, just tell him, “I’m going to the bathroom,” and then sneak out to the deli next door. Buy a black and white cookie, trust me, it just looks big because you don’t realize how hungry you still are, that that’s why you’re in such a bad mood. Eat the first one right there, before you even pay for it at the register, and then grab a second one to present to the cashier, “You know what?” you’ll tell him, “Charge me for a Mountain Dew also,” and pick it up on your way back to work.

Don’t look at your phone, it’s probably just your boss sending you some toothless threatening text message, some unoriginal, “It’s not really professional of you to …” long text message, like you’re thinking to yourself, man, what exactly is your job? How much time are you spending writing out paragraph-long text messages to an employee that just needs a snack, just give me ten minutes to eat my sandwich and cookie and take a drink of soda, Jesus Christ.

But it’s OK, by now your system should be totally flooded with whatever it is your body’s released in response to the sandwiches, to the cookies. Enjoy that comfortable buzz in the periphery of your consciousness. The next time you look your boss in the eye, just think about that cookie, maybe softly caress the Snickers bar in your pocket. I did tell you to get a Snickers, right? Just think, five minutes, ten more minutes, tops, and he’ll leave you alone. Just go to the corner for a second, make it look like you’re doing some work, don’t do it too fast, because then you’ll be back to square one, task completed, no more work to do, “No work to do? I’ll give you something to do!” Just take your time, make that menial labor last, unwrap the Snickers and take little bites now and then. You’re just hungry, it happens to everybody, just chill out, just have a snack, just wait a half an hour and then go out for a smoothie or a milkshake.

I love mayonnaise: An ode to mayonnaise

I just had a sandwich for lunch. Two sandwiches. I’ve been using a lot of mayonnaise lately, on everything. Most people, when you start talking about mayo, they’ll be like, “Ew! I hate mayo! Gross!” which is crazy, because it’s so tasty, it’s oil and eggs, it’s the basis for like fifty percent of everything delicious that comes out of the supermarket.

I’m planning on having another sandwich, maybe tonight after I get home from work, maybe tomorrow for lunch. Maybe both. Probably both. I’ve got it all figured out. Sometimes I’ll make a spicy mayonnaise, like I’ll blend mayo and spices and peppers and mix it all up. It’s more like a dressing at that point. I think most salad dressings are basically just mayo with some stuff in it, which is why I never understand people at restaurants, they’ll be like, “I’ll have a burger. No mayo. I’d like it medium. Can you make sure they don’t put any mayo on that? And some fries. Again, I can’t stress enough how much I really don’t want any mayonnaise anywhere near my plate. Got it? Oh by the way, do you have ranch dressing? Yeah, I’ll take a gallon.”

Obviously I’m only talking about the creamy dressings. Not like vinaigrette. Creamy vinaigrette? I’ve never heard of it. I’m sure they sell it somewhere. I remember when I was a little kid we’d go over my grandparents’ house for dinner pretty regularly, and whereas at our house we had our own way of eating dinner, at my grandparents’ house, my grandma always made a big salad in a bowl and she gave out separate smaller wooden bowls just for that salad. And there would always be like twelve bottles of dressing to choose from.

My favorite was creamy Italian. It’s what I was describing earlier, I guess, some sort of a creamy vinaigrette. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m not describing it right. But I’d add probably a handful of greens and tomatoes to the bowl before filling it to the brim with creamy Italian dressing. At this point, the few vegetables that actually made it to my plate were nothing more than a medium for me to eat as much dressing as possible. Creamy Italian was so good. On a side note, when you go to restaurants now, and you ask what kind of dressings they have, it’s never Italian anymore, it’s always vinaigrette, or just balsamic, which isn’t even complete, it’s just vinegar, and the vinaigrette, it doesn’t even have any mayo at all, like I already said.

I’ve tried making my own mayo from scratch. Yeah, it’s OK. It never comes out thick like store bought does. Man, I’m hungry just thinking about all of this mayo. But wait a second, I’m actually freaking out, I think I’ve accidentally stumbled across a repressed memory here. Oh my God, it’s a strong one, it’s coming through, yes, I can see it now, I’m at a deli somewhere on a road trip. I ask for a sandwich, extra mayo. I unwrap it and take a big bite, but something’s not right.

What’s that taste? And the texture, it feels kind of weird also, like what I imagine paint would feel like if I put it in my mouth by the spoonful. Did a whole colony of algae somehow make it onto my cold cuts? I raise my head up from my sandwich to ask the deli guy what’s wrong, but my mouth is glued shut. It’s horrible. I can’t chew anymore and there’s no way I’m going to be able to choke down an entire bite.

“What’s wrong?” the deli guy asks me, noticing that I’m visibly distressed, “Did I make your sandwich the wrong way? Did you want any more Miracle Whip? I put a lot on there just like you asked me.”

I spent the rest of the day puking my brains out. Miracle Whip. Gross. If there’s something that we can all rally behind, it’s that Miracle Whip should be regulated like a class one narcotic. That stuff’s not even real. It’s not mayonnaise. It’s a sandwich spread. It’s white. It looks like mayonnaise, from a distance anyway. Actually, no it doesn’t. It’s not even close. It’s disgusting. Please take my word for it, I’m not exaggerating.

Not like mayonnaise. I just love mayonnaise. My favorite cartoon character is Patty Mayonnaise from Doug. When I get sick, I insist on getting treated at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. If I could start my own TV show, it would be called Man Vs. Mayo, starring me, with the premise being exactly that of Man Vs. Food, but instead of food, I’d just challenge myself to eat as much mayonnaise as possible, every episode.

Before I end it here, I’d like to point out that you don’t see enough dessert mayonnaise. I think that’s got to change eventually. Just add some sugar, some vanilla extract. I’d eat a bowl of that. Actually, that sounds pretty good, I think I have all of those ingredients right here in my kitchen. Yeah, so, I’ll let you know how it turns out. Now if you’ll excuse me.