Two months ago I came to work to find, adjacent to my desk, a peculiar sight: eight bowls of mayonnaise arranged in a straight line. There sat, in perfect succession, enough creamy white condiment to eat a bowl’s worth a day for a week, and then some. The sight conjured a strange excitement in me. That is so much mayo, I thought. I hope at least some of it is for me, I thought. Maybe, if I’m on my best behavior today, I’ll get some mayo, I thought. My relationship to the mayonnaise in front of me was turning suddenly, strangely Pavlovian.
But I wasn’t alone. Other coworkers began to gravitate toward the mayonnaise, drawn first by its superfluity and then by the promise, the sweet, sweet possibility, that they might get a taste. My coworker Emma ripped open three bags of gleefully misshapen Five Guys French fries. “Today, we’ll be blind taste testing eight different kinds of mayonnaise to determine what we think is the best.”
Source: FS – All – Food – News
Have Millennials Really "Killed Mayonnaise"?