Kosher Food and Drink

What’s with the kosher fascination with mayo? And why did it find its way on to the Japanese delicacy of sushi?

First let’s take a look at the origins of spicy mayo on sushi. While there are no great known sources for the recent rise of this kicked-up condiment, it seems that it began as a fusion of American and Japanese cuisines, adding a creamy, zesty component to the traditional Japanese fare to make it more palatable to the American palate.

Still, mayo (the Japanese form, e.g. Kewpie) does have its roots in okonomiyaki and the sauce accompanying this Osakan dish of grilled savory cabbage pancakes. But okonomiyaki literally means “cooked as you like,” so although it’s commonly served with Japanese mayo drizzled on top, even here it can certainly be kept sans mayo.

I used to think spicy mayo was a particular kosher aberration. There’s something behind kosher overuse of mayo and I don’t think I’m forging this conspiracy. My theory is that the use of mayo in kosher is to replace and replicate the utility of dairy. Think about what makes a cheeseburger great (I’ve only ever eaten the meat with pareve cheese or pareve burger with real cheese versions, to be clear): The gooey, salty, tanginess is a great addition to the rich, fatty meat. In kosher, we are often missing this element. I believe that’s why such dishes as chicken and (for my Baltimore readers) turkey “salad” are so popular. Adding a rich, fatty, creamy component to this lean protein is a winning combo.

While we’re on the topic of sushi, I need to tell the story of the spicy tuna maki I ordered and received via delivery a number of years ago from a restaurant not known for its sushi. (Yes, I understand the mistake I made here.) I opened up the bag, and lo and behold, my spicy tuna roll was indeed spicy and tuna. The tuna was canned dark tuna fish (of the Chicken of the Sea variety) and was topped with Tabasco sauce. It was too funny to get upset about.

As for the spicy mayo, I get why adding mayo to anything and everything seems like a winning formula, but as you see in the picture above, my order of spicy salmon arrived bathed in the substance. That’s a double no-no. The restaurant wants to encourage the spicy mayo? Put it on the side. Why am I being forced to engulf this billion-calorie goppy mess? Part of the reason I order sushi is because, for restaurant fare, it’s relatively healthy. And yes, I feel the same way about the eel sauce (don’t worry, kosher keepers, eel sauce is the name for the sweet brown sauce made with soy, sugar, and mirin, then reduced into a thick syrup). Keep it on the side, if at all.

So what should give spicy salmon its heat? For me, either sriracha or chili oil.

Sushi is perfect in its pure form. The flawlessly cooked rice paired with the freshest of fish is masterful. Let the fish do the talking. Super fresh and tasting like the ocean, this is not something that should need to be drenched in a cover-up sauce which obliterates the delicate flavor. Traditional sushi chefs, who would be aghast watching diners plunge a roll into just plain soy sauce, might need to be hospitalized witnessing the overuse of spicy mayo. Sushi chefs will advise that soy sauce is there to add an umami element to the fish, but that sushi should be dipped on the fish surface only and not touch the rice, as the rice will soak up the soy and overpower the fish.

So I suppose my biggest issue here is the assumption that I want the spicy mayo on top of my spicy salmon roll.

Which brings me to another major pet peeve of mine, one of a different variety. Why is the soy sauce packet, with its unknown provenance, and which likely has touched things I don’t want making a home in my digestive system, inside the sushi container, touching my food? You know how we discovered how filthy the top of a soda can is in actuality? Would you imagine this corporate product to be any more sanitary? I shudder to think about the cooties on that Kikkoman packet. But if I just succeed in changing some minds on spicy mayo saturated sushi, I’ll consider the time I spent writing this piece worthwhile.

Will it become my life’s mission to rid the kosher world of its obsession with spicy mayo? Perhaps. People have championed lesser causes.

By the way, don’t get me started on Philadelphia rolls …