It’s no secret that I love mayonnaise, much to my mustard-loving family’s dismay. But when I was going through my collection of Great-Grandma Blanche’s handwritten recipes, I came across a dish called chicken mayonnaise and realized that this love had just skipped a few generations.
Chicken mayonnaise, as my great-grandma made it, was a concoction that involved, of course, lots of mayonnaise. But it also called for gelatin, nuts and a whole mess of other ingredients that when combined could stretch one small chicken into a feast that could easily serve 20.
“Perfect for that Fourth of July party,” I bet you’re thinking! Perhaps. But I decided to make another type of chicken mayonnaise instead.
Back in March, I had completely sworn off chicken after an encounter with a grocery-store rotisserie chicken left me in bed for three days. I wasn’t happy with this decision, as I adore chicken—be it fried, in tacos, in chicken and dumplings or in sour cream enchiladas. But, well, if you’ve ever suffered through the post-traumatic shock of a bad bout of food poisoning, you know how I felt.
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