THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, March 23, 1995 TAG: 9503230559
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Guy Friddell
LENGTH: Medium: 62 lines
On a buffet Wednesday in Norfolk at one of those power lunches where a dozen or so people eat and confer around a long table, not one among an array of sandwiches had mayonnaise on it.
Such is the power of the Center for Science in the Public Interest.
Mayo, as delis call it, emerged as the No. 1 public enemy in a dietary study issued Tuesday by the center in Washington. Mayo has far too much fat.
In the center's eyes, mayonnaise is the John Dillinger of dressings.
Substitute the J. Edgar Hoover, which is mustard, the center says.
No fiat on Earth could induce me to put mustard on a turkey sandwich. Or on sandwiches of chicken salad or tuna salad.
Before I'd desecrate that trio, I'd eschew - instead of chew - them.
Horseradish, searing to the tongue, goes well with turkey. But never mustard.
Mustard and turkey don't mix or match, in my book.
If they do in yours, I'm not one of those knee-jerk ideologues who is going to condemn you. Enjoy!
Just don't offer any to me.
Nor do I have any use for mustard on a tomato sandwich.
Not unless it also has crisp bacon.
Conversely, I don't like mayonnaise on a bacon and tomato sandwich.
The ideal mayonnaise for an otherwise unadorned tomato sandwich is Hellmann's and, just behind it, two dressings created in Richmond: Duke's, named for the woman who created the recipe in Greenville, S.C., and Sauer's, named for the company that produces both of them.
Any one of the three - Hellmann's, Duke's, Sauer's - will do, and I'm not certain that I could tell them apart on a sandwich.
If tomatoes were in season - oh Lord, if only they were in season - I would set up a taste-testing counter right here with thick slices of crusty white bread and a tall glass of cold milk on the side. I wouldn't mind if it were buttermilk.
One suggestion is that we use light - or lite, as they spell it - mayonnaise on sandwiches. I tried a lite Hellmann's last year, and it was well nigh tasteless.
My theory, yet unproven, is that if you eat a lite variety under stress, it produces even more cholesterol than does the undiluted original.
Up to the time of the center's decree, I'd been able to quell any thought of tomato sandwiches, just shove it to the back of the lowest shelf of my refrigerator mind.
Now the lure of tomatoes is out in the open, thanks to the center, and at least once a week I'll remember with regret that the red orbs ripening in the fields of Hampton Roads are four months away.
Any day now, I expect to hear somebody accuse the Center for Science in the Public Interest of having a liberal bias for daring to tell us what to think of what we eat.
But I'd rather know the consequences and suffer than remain in the dark. ILLUSTRATION: Drawing
by CNB