Mayonnaise

Mayonnaise is not a sauce that sits still. Whip it once, and it holds: thick, glossy, oil bound into something that won't fall apart on its own. That's the whole trick of it. Pour cold oil in too fast, or leave the jar in the freezer overnight, and you'll see it happen — a clean sauce turns grainy, then it separates, oil pooling on top, a thin watery liquid underneath. Don't throw it out: whisk it slowly into a fresh yolk, or a spoonful of mustard and water, and it usually comes back together.

Choose it by look, not by label. Good mayonnaise is dense, pale ivory, smooth, with a soft sheen. It should cling to a spoon, not run off it. Smell it: clean, faintly eggy, a little sharp from the vinegar. If it smells rancid, stale or off, put it back.

Some people say mayonnaise is heavy, a "diet killer," so they scoop it out with a spoon meant for soup. No! It's rich because it's fat and little else — carbs and protein here are almost nothing. Use it like a seasoning, not a base, and it does its job: it binds, it coats, it carries flavor. Treat it as a main ingredient, and every salad turns into a swimming pool.