One of the things I spend too much time wondering about is why more restaurants don’t serve homemade mayonnaise.  Especially ones that serve it a lot (seafood restaurants spring to mind) or those that raise their own egg-laying hens.  I’m not talking about chain restaurants or cheap and cheerful types but restaurants where they would take pride in making their own hollandaise.  It just seems odd that it seems so acceptable to open a jar of mayo.  It isn’t as if people can’t tell the difference.  It is particularly annoying when it is called homemade mayonnaise on the menu and it turns out to be mayonnaise from a jar with a bit of curry powder, anchovies, or whatever, thrown in.

I have friends who can make mayonnaise in a small bowl using a fork.  I only make mayonnaise about twice a year (I start feeling guilty about eating it as soon as I start pouring the oil) and it is more of an ordeal for me – I need a huge bowl, a damp tea towel to hold the bowl still and a huge whisk and have to remind myself not to rush it!

We had a barbecue with our neighbours today.  We have a communal garden so it was a ‘fire up the barbie and meet in the middle’ sort of affair to which we took monkfish wrapped in pancetta on rosemary skewers, rosemary potato wedges and some wobbly, yellow mayonnaise.  Along with a mini pavlova with damson cream and raspberries made from the leftover whites.

Our friends brought lovely sticky ribs, sausages, chicken, quiche and a salad.  Dessert wine and tea were applied liberally and we didn’t move much for a while after eating all that.