OPINION

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By Charlotte Smith

Starving, I open my boxed lunch provided for everyone on the field trip. I pull out the plastic silverware, napkin, chips, and a wrapped cookie. I reach my shaky hand into the box to grab the last item, a turkey and cheese sandwich. A sigh of relief comes over me when I see a mayonnaise packet at the bottom of the box. Perfect I think, they didn’t put any mayonnaise on this sandwich. As I unwrap the sandwich, I peel back the bread, something I do every time due to chronic trust issues, and within seconds see a layer of white spread onto the bread. I instantly gag, bunch up the sandwich, and throw it back into the box. Sadly, this is an occurrence that I am much too familiar with. 

I hate mayonnaise. The gloopy texture and smell are just about enough to make me want to throw up. To see how other people in the Collegiate community felt about this condiment, The Match sent out a survey to the entire Upper School. The survey asked whether people liked, tolerated, or disliked mayonnaise; if they ate it if it were the main ingredient in something; how they commonly consumed mayonnaise; and if they had a preferred brand. From the 192 responses, I found that my hatred for mayonnaise is shared by 37.7 percent of the polled Collegiate population. Maybe I should start a club for anti-mayo students, considering that nothing brings people closer than a shared hatred for something. As for the other 35.1 percent of students who love mayonnaise, and 27.2 percent of people who can tolerate it, let’s just say that I am thankful for being a senior so that I don’t have to spend any extra time with mayo consumers. 

A pie chart with results of the survey question: “Do you like mayonnaise?”

Considering that mayonnaise is simply eggs, oil, salt, and an acid (usually vinegar or lemon juice), I should like it. I don’t dislike any of those ingredients and regularly eat them separately, but when they are emulsified together and turned into the nasty concoction known as mayonnaise, my stomach churns. If I had a time machine, the first thing I would do is go back to 1756 and tell the French chef of the Duc de Richelieu to not create mayonnaise. The spread was created for a celebratory dinner after the Dutch beat the British at the Battle of Port Mahon in Minorca, hence the chef named his spread “Mahonnaise.” 

A terrible buy one-get one free sale on mayonnaise at Publix.

My hatred for mayonnaise has been turned into a self-proclaimed allergy. Since I despise this terrible spread, and because people seemingly enjoy slathering it on anything and everything that they can, whenever I go somewhere where a list of allergies is required, I sometimes list mayonnaise. Only recently did my mother and I become smart enough to forge this little white lie, which, if done sooner, would have saved me the extreme disappointment of hundreds of pre-made boxed lunches. 

While I have gotten smart enough to both lie about having a mayonnaise allergy and pack extra granola bars to satiate me in boxed lunch situations, I pose a simple question: Why ruin a perfectly good sandwich with mayonnaise? Why not leave it off the sandwich and allow others to add it at their discretion? I have pondered this question thousands of times over an empty stomach. 

Upon approaching Upper School Latin teacher Tyler Boyd about this very topic, he immediately said, “Oh, I hate mayonnaise. I think it is one of the world’s worst inventions. Mayonnaise on any sandwich ruins it.” Tucker Walker (‘22), a mayonnaise enthusiast, said, “I typically use mayo on sandwiches and hamburgers, because it adds a creamy texture and brings everything together. I think that there is a point where sometimes there is too much mayo in certain chicken salad recipes, but I always eat it and never steer away from it.” 

Upper School Spanish teacher Hannah Curley said, “If I can’t taste the mayo on a sandwich, I don’t want it,” and Brent Hailes (‘22) said, “[I] used to eat it by itself. I loved it so much. I don’t eat it plain anymore, but still love it with every fiber in my body.” Jonathan Yackel (‘22) said, “If I don’t know it is in the thing, I am okay with it. But once I know, I can’t eat it.”

Ham rolls that require the “Butter or Mayonnaise” check.

While I may never find a scientific answer for the reasoning behind the use of mayonnaise, I know that because of the evil spread, I live my life in fear. Even at social gatherings and parties, a time for celebration, I must keep my guard up.

Anytime I go to eat a sandwich or roll of some sort at a gathering, I check with my family members, who also hate mayonnaise, to see if they have tasted it yet. If they have, they will advise me to stay away or give me the green light to go ahead and eat whatever is in question. If they have not yet eaten the item in question, I have to brave the unknown all by myself. I can proudly say that it has been these moments of bravery that have made me the person I am today. 

With every single sandwich, even the ones I make myself, I always peel back the bread to check for a thin layer of white. It’s a habit, and I never know who could poison my sandwich with mayonnaise when I am not looking. Sometimes, this process can get messy, as the thin layer of white could be butter or mayonnaise. Luckily, I have come up with a top-notch, scientifically proven method to decipher between the two. Butter melts easily, but mayonnaise has a higher melting point, so chances are a warm roll that still has a layer of white on it has mayonnaise, because butter would have melted. Ham biscuits are a common culprit of the “’Is It Mayo or Butter?” check, and sometimes, if it is too tricky to tell, you just have to avoid them altogether. 

People who know me know that I refuse anything with mayonnaise on it. Sometimes, people get annoyed with this tendency and say things like “Charlotte, you can’t even taste it.” But I know that they are lying to me. Quinn Leonard (‘25) said, “[Mayonnaise] helps make cakes more fluffy.” As an avid cake baker and decorator, this comment just about broke me. I can’t even begin to imagine how foul mayonnaise would be in a cake. 

A pie chart with results of the survey question: “Do you have a favorite brand of mayonnaise?”

While others debate over whether the best brand of mayonnaise is Duke’s, Heinz, Hellman’s, or even Miracle Whip, I argue that mayonnaise should not exist. It’s disgusting. Even people who claim to not like mayonnaise, and whom I have befriended more or less for this sole reason, betray me when I see them eat chicken salad, potato salad, coleslaw, ranch dressing, pimento cheese, Chick-Fil-A sauce, or the famous Taste Sauce. 

I know many people who “dislike” mayonnaise but then proceed to drown their sandwiches in Taste Sauce, and their hamburgers and French fries in Jack Brown Sauce. Anne Carrington Hall (‘24) says, “[Mayonnaise is] only acceptable if it’s in a house sauce, [but] it’s still a little repulsive.”

A selection of “special sauces,” which are all mayonnaise-based, at Publix.

To everyone who claims to hate mayonnaise but eats special sauces and any house sauce, I hate to break it to you, but these sauces are simply seasoned and flavored mayonnaise. People claim that these sauces are “different,” but I don’t see how. Flavored mayonnaise is still just mayonnaise at heart. Some restaurants even try to disguise flavored mayonnaise by calling it aioli. To me, this is fraud. 

I have been told time and time again to “never say never,” but I can confidently say that I will never like, tolerate, or even consume mayonnaise. You can most likely catch me at lunch double-checking my bread and then proceeding to eat a plain sandwich with just turkey and cheese. Although I don’t like mayonnaise, do not let this stop you from inviting me to your next luncheon or pot-luck. Just go ahead and make a mental note of my “allergy,” know that I will check the bread of every item there, and that I will not be trying your famous deviled eggs or egg salad sandwiches.

A few more note-worthy Match survey responses: 

“NOOOOOO MAYOOOO” – Ellie Featherston (‘25)

“Mayonnaise [is] bad and stinky” – Noah Krumbein (‘24)

“I tried it once. Never again.” – Mary Geyer (‘25) 

“Bleh, it’s made out of eggs. Some people put it on everything (fat Americans).” – George Byford (‘25)

“It tastes like wet wipes.” -Will Clifford (‘25) 

“Don’t ever ask me about mayo again. Final warning.” Harrison Neuhaus (‘25)

“Mayo is the worst condiment to ever exist.” – Micaela Allen (‘22)

“It looks disgusting and tastes the same.” -Lily Hartley (‘23)

Featured image credit: Pxhere. All other photos by Charlotte Smith.