Elbow Grease: The great homemade mayo attempt

 Hello everyone!

The last time we touched base was during the quarantine sourdough baking times. I've since made another loaf or two, as well as sourdough potato rolls. Alas, there's only so much bread you can eat..

Recently, the mayo jar was emptied and I couldn't be bothered to go to the grocery store to simply get another jar. Why not attempt making it? I have a friend who shudders at the thought of Kraft mayo, because, growing up, she was spoiled by the presence of a Danish grandmother who made her own mayonnaise. 

I rolled up my sleeves and gave it a go. From Sticky Fingers to Elbow Grease, it's like that song we sang as kids - hand bone's connected to the arm bone! 

Attempt #1: Use the first recipe from the Google search results, published by Chatelaine. Sounded easy enough: egg yolk, lemon juice, Dijon, salt, olive oil. Whisk the egg yolk first, then add the rest of the ingredients and whisk away.

Result: mayonnaise soup. It looked like I'd mass reproduced liquid egg yolks, because the whole concoction was yellow. Also guessing that the emulsification didn't quite take place.

Looks like custard? (No filters used here)

Also of note: do not use olive oil from those large jugs bought at Costco. It contributed to the yellow colour of the "mayo", and also made it taste like economy olive oil. It was all I had to use for a quick potato salad; however, after a couple of days in the fridge, I couldn't find any dressing coating the cubed spuds. It's like it slowly dissolved.

Attempt #2: Find another recipe that suggests using a neutral oil like grapeseed, canola, or safflower oil. Half can be substituted out for olive oil. This time around, I had a lighter, fruitier olive oil, so hopefully no overpowering taste.

Signs of potential failure: the randomly found, half-used bottle of grapeseed oil squatting on the counter next to the stove emits this old oil smell when I open it. I taste it, and it tastes alright (does a neutral oil taste like anything??), so I start whisking away. And keep whisking....

The new recipe mentions the mix thickening and starting to emulsify when approximately 1/4 cup of oil is whisked in.

...really? Looks like I've got a liquid mess on my hands, with the appearance and consistency of watered down orange juice. Serves me right for doubting my nose! 

Result: Abort! Abort! 

Attempt #3: Use same recipe (from here), have canola oil along with olive oil. Again, it looks like the same runny mess with about 1/4 cup of the oil mixed in, but when I start to pour it out, I notice it indeed looks creamier. Third time's the charm, go time!

What no one ever tells you when making homemade mayo by hand: you have to go at a Tasmanian Devil-type frenzy with the whisk to start getting the emulsification. This goes on for much longer than you think. 

What no one tells you, part 2: whisking doesn't necessarily mean going around in circles. Rapid zigzagging works as well. 

Still worrying a bit about the mixture all coming together, the recipe's troubleshooting section has a few suggestions, like mixing in a squirt of yellow mustard to help it along.

Don't knock that mustard idea until you try it. It works! And, the mayo gets a bit of a tangier taste.

Result: Does it look creamy enough?

Answer: Yes!

**Story time: after my first year in university, I'd gone on a trip to visit the southwest of France in July that year. On a beautiful summer evening, we gorged on mussels and fries. Slightly surprisingly, the waiter plopped squirt bottles of mayo on the table, and it came out a creamy, slightly yellow colour; not cloyingly sweet, and delightful with French fries. We were proud our party of 5 emptied 1 of the bottles.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Atlantic, Kraft's mayo has an anti-gravity consistency that could rival a Dairy Queen Blizzard treat.

This 3rd attempt looks creamy, has a hint of a mustard taste...I'll take the win and run. 

Signs you're relieved at making some successful mayo: you start licking it out of the bowl after scooping most of it in a jar.

After a couple of nights in the fridge, the mayo still has a nice consistency. 

The taste test: make a BLT toast and lay the condiment on thick. The creaminess is still there, and the slight tang from the mustard also comes through.

Conclusion: is house mayo worth it? 100%. It's pretty cost-effective in terms of ingredients...BUT, from now on, I'm going to use the food processor. I got a workout from the hand whisking.

  

Sticky Fingers: Baking sourdough bread, Part 2

Breadventures.

A client coined this term earlier today and it makes a lot of sense. I likened this experience to a Lord of the Rings-esque journey, because it definitely isn't straightforward. A few battles are to be fought, some twists and turns here...no mention yet of the undead, or talking trees.

This past week alone, I attempted 3 batches of sourdough bread. (Thanks, social distancing.) Recall I initially made a wet, sticky mess, then tried again.

Turns out, the amount of water is way more important than imagined. So is overworking the dough. Guess what happened - I baked up something in the shape and height of a Frisbee. Still edible, though.

Hmmm, biscotti, anyone?

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again..

A few other things I learned along the way en route to the latest attempt so far:

- sourdough starter is a very messy relationship. It's kind of like papier-mâché in the sense that once it dries, it's probably stuck on forever. Oh, and mysteriously enough, a swath will be drying on the underside of your forearm, unbeknownst to you.

- try and wash your hands? It'll stick to the sink in little blobs.

- after feeding the starter and mixing a new batch of dough, I changed t-shirts...and later found a sizeable streak of starter on the clean shirt, despite not having gone near any of the dough, or the jar.

- those hinged lid jars from IKEA are pretty and all, but a pain in the @$$ to clean, and to pour stuff from...especially sourdough culture.

- it's also possible that despite your best efforts, the active starter starts to die. Because you likely drowned it by miscalculating the ratio of water to flour during a feeding.

Have we gotten to the third book of the trilogy yet? Where it's just an all-out battle and the little Hobbit is struggling to throw that 1 thing in the fires of Mordor (in this case, the proofed dough into the oven)?

It's not perfect, but it's a start

Oh yes, and the first slice from that loaf^ pictured...eaten with butter, of course.

Never fear, folks! I'm finding this whole process quite amusing, and not frustrating in any way. It may just be that I'll be chomping on a lot of sourdough toasts in the near future, not that I'm complaining.

Sticky Fingers: Baking sourdough bread, Part 1 - Lord of the Rings kind of journey?!

Oh hi there, quaranteenies!

(Sorry, I just had to say that)

Dusting off this blog and seeing the last post was made at the end of September of 2019, well..let's chalk it up (in part) to a non-existent race season.

In March, didn't we all have these grand plans of catching up on reading, tidying up like Marie Kondo, learning how to properly forge a railroad spike from scrap metal, and binge watch all the seasons of TV from the past two years?

Nope, nope, scratch that! At least, we're comedians in that sense. I think my bedroom may have remained in the same, semi-chaotic state during the whole ordeal so far.

What didn't change for me: coffee consumption, hee hee hee

There's also been a surge of people trying their hands at baking sourdough bread, and lo and behold,  pictures on social media of golden brown loaves, nicely scored (the slash on top) to make our mouths water.

I was recently given a jar of starter from some good friends of mine, as well as some basic instructions on how to keep it alive (no mentions of bringing it into outer space, however), and a few links to recipes.

First attempt - listen to said friends' easy-sounding method that didn't seem to take too long, excitedly bake up a loaf and...get a result of a very dense middle, not too much rise, toasted up a bit odd the next morning.

Informing myself on sourdough starters for baking bread, and the process (*ahem* patience) involved, got me on this unexpected journey that may have me considering renaming my starter to Bilbo. Or One Ring.

The actual culture requires time and a bit of TLC for it to be active. Leave it out of the fridge. Feed it once, twice a day. Watch the bubbles and hey, why not call it Precious since it's going to be the make or break of your bread!

This week (second week of June), attempting a batch with proportions that are reflective of proper bread recipes, as well as allowing more time (overnight!) for the active starter to do its thing...

Behold: Wet Goop related to Flubber

...and I literally get something resembling slop, or a dough-coloured Flubber when poured out of the bowl and it slowly oozes out of shape. Not to mention it's quite the sticky mess that literally sucks my fingers in. You shall not pass!

Oh, and when I attempt to lift half of it out (what's in the picture above), it stretches like a mozzarella cheese monster, and my floured tray is suspended almost in mid-air by tendrils of dough.

As I'm typing this, I've got another loaf in the making, different amounts but still respecting the baker's math. Here's the thing - I can picture, and taste, that beautiful slice of sourdough toast; it will be done justice only by applying a lashing of butter.

To be continued (part 2)