Try as I might, I've never been able to get over a long-seated mayonnaise aversion. While its full-bodied creaminess adds dimension and a silky texture to a whole host of classic dishes, I recoil in fear at the barest glimmer of the condiment.
For the most part, I've been able to get on with my life - let's be real, this is a quintessential first-world problem - but at the same time, I often feel as if I'm missing out on something essential. Classics like potato salad, tomato-mayonnaise sandwiches, and Waldorf salads have graced my lips but a handful of times in my two-plus decades of life. That is, until now. . .
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