As a lifelong mayo believer, I’m exhausted by perennial debates over whether mayonnaise is gross or glorious. I insist it’s both: gross in theory, and glorious in practice. The mere sound of mayo being scooped out of a jar might repulse mayo naysers, but to others, it evokes the ideal BLT or chicken salad.
But for those who can’t handle mayo in aioli, sandwiches, or salad dressings, the key is not to argue, but to feed them something cooked in mayo. It might sound strange, but once you try it, you’ll wonder why you didn’t give it a shot before.
Cooking with mayonnaise does away with its texture and smell, which are common issues people have with mayo. Something magical happens to mayonnaise as soon as it kisses a medium-hot pan. Unlike butter, which has a low smoke point of 350 degrees, mayonnaise won’t start to smoke until around 450 degrees — higher than most extra-virgin olive oils. It’s what makes it a perfect pan-frying fat; even the staunchest mayo deniers admit its efficacy in browning a grilled cheese, a diner trick that goes back decades.
The oil in mayo functions as a frying medium, while the yolks cling to your carb or protein, forming a delicate shell. The result is a crust that’s impossibly crunchy without the extra oil. It’s no wonder so many people swear by mayo for grilling cheese. But why stop there? Mayo can go where butter can — and beyond.
Almost any kind of mayo works here: regular, spicy, wasabi, avocado oil, or plant-based versions like Veganaise. Skip light mayo, though, since heating it can cause the emulsion to break due to ingredients like food starches and xantham gum. While Kewpie certainly works, real mayo lovers might want to save the top-shelf stuff to eat as is.
Start small with mayo-fried eggs. If heavy cream-fried eggs have earned fans across the internet, including chefs, mayo can’t be that far behind. Heavy cream mimics butter, creating lacy, bronzed edges. While the egg-on-egg combo might seem wacky, the fat in mayo helps achieve a perfect lattice edge while preserving a runny yolk.
Unlike most condiments, mayo does double duty: it shields your dinner from dryness while leaving a golden glow behind, a melanoidin for evenly-seared, juicy chicken breasts. Using it to marinate lean cuts of meat like rib eye or pork loin locks in moisture, and coating salmon in it before frying results in a tender fish with a delicate crust. It’s also the secret to less-greasy pan-fried kebabs, burger patties, meatballs, and sausages.
Or stir fry your mayo in Eric Kim’s mayo-and-corn-fried rice. Here, mayo separates and lacquers each grain of rice while ensuring browning rather than steaming. This same method works with frozen snacks like dumplings or kimbap, too: defrost them in the microwave, slick them with a mix of untoasted sesame oil and mayo, and fry them until crispy.
Mayonnaise is also a game-changer in the oven. Lather it on vegetables and chicken before roasting, or add it to savory bakes for extra-silky frittatas and quiches, Korean corn cheese, or even an old-fashioned green bean casserole for a creamier finish.
Use mayo to finish scrambled eggs for an extra-velvety texture, or add a dollop to mashed potatoes for richness. A dab of mayo can rescue a broken hollandaise or béarnaise, bring tang to mac and cheese, and add body to an au poivre, alfredo, béchamel, and even gravy.
Mayo can even be an ideal, if unexpected, ingredient in cakes: it takes the place of eggs in this deeply fudgy, Depression-era chocolate cake that’s made with pantry ingredients. And for added moisture, you can swap sour cream for mayo in banana bread or coffee crumb cake.
The next time someone says they hate mayo and can’t see the condiment for the treasure that it is, don’t debate them — let the array of recipes mayonnaise can be used in do the talking. Whether you’re pan-frying, baking, or rescuing a sauce, mayonnaise isn’t just a condiment; it’s a culinary cheat code. With mayo in your arsenal, the question isn’t if you’ll use it, but what you’ll use it to transform next.
Mehr Singh is a food and culture reporter based in New York. Her work appears in Bon Appétit, Food52, and other publications.
