You can use a food processor, or a mortar and pestle, or a bowl and a wooden spoon. Some use vegetable oil rather than olive oil for a gentler result. I do not. Your mayonnaise should have that bitter olive taste. Some thin with water; I feel this should be avoided.
Confession time: I’ve had terrible, terrible luck making mayo at home. I could never seem to get the proper emulsion going, with the end result always being a broken mess. But this time I was determined. Mr. Henderson has guided me gently through his book. He’d see me through this recipe as well.
Into my food processor went three egg yolks (one is hidden by the blade), a little dijon mustard and a pinch of salt.
The yolks were whizzed for a little bit to get things started.
And here’s the needed olive oil. Slowly, and I mean really slowly, I drizzled the oil into the running processor.
Look! I’ve got the beginnings of a mayonnaise! Flush with confidence, I started adding the olive oil in greater amounts…
… which promptly broke the mayonnaise.
I’m not going to lie, I said some things that no one should probably ever hear. Gordon Ramsey would have blushed. Sailors started signing up for lessons.
But I refused to be beaten. Mostly because I’d really planned on posting this week. That and we were out of olive oil. To quote Tim Gunn, I needed to “make it work”. Grabbing three more egg yolks, another emulsion was started via my arm, a whisk and a metal bowl. Over the next ten minutes, about half of the broken mayo was added to the bowl, which resulted in a slightly-and I mean slightly-thick sauce.
The leftover broken mayo was evacuated from the food processor, and the new cohesive mayo went in. Scared to screw up yet again, I slowly combined the two until finally…
… I HAD MAYO!
It was perfectly thick–extra rich with a great mouth feel. The bite of olive oil was a little jarring at first and yet, it grew on me quickly.
The best part? I’ve overcome my mayonnaise gremlins. What a grand feeling that is to say the least.
One down, forty six to go.