BitterSweet

An Obsession with All Things Handmade and Home-Cooked


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Aquafab-ulous

“It’s made with WHAT?!” she reared back in a moment of candid horror and mild disgust, suddenly eyeing the open jar with suspicion.

It’s the not-so-secret ingredient taking the world by storm, dubbed a “miracle” by some and a food science breakthrough by others. Admittedly, to the uninitiated, it does take some careful explaining. In case you hadn’t heard, aquafaba is the excess liquid found in any ordinary can of chickpeas, just like the ones likely sitting in your pantry right now. Describing it simply as “bean water” hasn’t proven very effective in my experience, so be prepared for some serious questioning from the less adventurous eaters.

Beans in general are still a rather contentious ingredient in desserts, but even the most crunchy granola types give pause when considering more savory applications for this new baking staple. It takes a whole lot of moxy for a national brand to adopt such a potentially polarizing new concept, but Sir Kensington’s seems to have no qualms diving into the aquafaba deep end. Despite producing traditional, non-vegan mayonnaise options as well, their innovative Fabanaise is entirely eggless and plant-based.

Plain mayonnaise is a tricky thing to review. As a sandwich spread, it must have enough character to warrant an invite to the party, but not so much that it dominates every conversation in the room. No one is eating plain mayo on a spoon (at least, I hope not.) So to say that this creamy condiment is a great addition to other dishes, but doesn’t have much to say by itself, is a compliment by my estimation. Fairly neutral and mild in flavor, I’m happy to report that the Original Fabanaise nowhere near as sweet as something like Miracle Whip, while still retaining a well-rounded profile. My gold metal for mayo still goes to Vegenaise, but this is a very close second finisher.

Where Sir Kensington’s really excels is in their Chipotle Fabanaise. I simply couldn’t get enough of this creamy orange condiment, flecked with red and black pepper, sparkling with spices in every smear. Despite that threatening appearance, it delivers a more subtle warmth, rather than outright heat. Call it mild in terms of sheer scoville units, but the rich, smoky flavor infused throughout ensures that every bite will be boldly seasoned. Slathered on lightly charred corn on the cob, I couldn’t get enough, hitting the bottom of the glass jar before the grill could even cool down.

Consider Fabanaise another big win for one tiny bean. As if you need another excuse to enrich your own pantry, the aquafaba employed by Sir Kensington’s is diverted from an upstate New York hummus company, so your purchase helps reduce food waste, too. Sounds (and tastes) like a win-win-win situation to me.


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Yay or Nay?

Freed of a decade-long mayonnaise aversion, the unctuous white condiment may not be the first thing on my grocery list, but certainly has earned its keep as a refrigerator staple, thanks to its irreplaceable contribution to my very favorite chocolate cake recipe. Thus, I’m probably not the ideal judge of a new take on the classic spread, but the offer to taste Nasoya‘s latest contribution to the category was irresistible. Curiosity fueled my investigation, since the original Nayonaise and I have a considerable history. It was the first time I ever tasted vegan mayonnaise, which sadly but quite frankly reinforced my original bias against it. Somehow a bottle of the stuff found its way into my fridge, likely after a photo shoot had wrapped and left the extra behind, and I couldn’t seem to get rid of it for the life of me. Eventually I became desperate, attempting to pawn it off on any friends who visited. It was convenient that each and every one “forgot” the glass jar when it came time to depart…

Revitalized and reformulated, my hopes were high for a surprise comeback. In addition to the previous offerings of their Original Sandwich Spread and Light (which I didn’t get to sample), there is now the option of Whipped, which is said to approximate the taste of Miracle Whip more closely. Let’s not beat around the bush here: I do not like Nayo Whipped, Sam I am. It strikes me as being too sweet, pulling my taste buds in the opposite direction of what they would desire in a savory dish, all with a beany undercurrent that muddies up the flavor. Unfortunately, this is exactly what I feared when I signed on for a sample. The jar of Whipped may be around for quite some time, wedged into the farthest reaches of the fridge, unless anyone would care to drop and take it off my hands.

The outlook isn’t as bleak for the Original, however. Despite an inauspicious appearance of a broken, greasy emulsion, the mixture does genuinely feel smooth and creamy on the tongue. The leading and finishing note is one of mustard, with a gentle touch of vinegar and salt chiming in. Appropriately rich and just slightly sweet, I do believe it’s an improvement over the first version that turned me off so many years ago. Is it my favorite mayonnaise option? No. But is it a perfectly serviceable alternative? You bet! The odds of success only improve once it’s mixed into a recipe with more complimentary flavors to enhance that baseline taste.

For my first trick, I thought I would turn the classic BLT sandwich into a fun summer hor d’oeuvre, taking out the bread and stuffing the contents into hollowed out tomato shells. BLT bites, so simple that a formal recipe would be overkill, are nothing more than seeded roma tomatoes filled with shredded romaine lettuce and chopped chives, tossed with Original Nayonaise, and finally topped with coconut bacon. Serve thoroughly chilled for the best eating experience, especially on a hot day.

Where Nayonaise really shines, however, is in baking, just as I had predicted due to the success of my experimental chocolate cake so long ago. Churning out a batch of chocolate chip cookies in record time and only seven ingredients all told, this recipe is reason enough for me to always keep a jar on hand. Amazingly, the mustard flavor mellowed significantly in baking, becoming nearly undetectable when paired with the right ratio of sugar and chocolate. The combination shouldn’t work, couldn’t possibly be delicious, but somehow, it really is. The best part is the texture- You would be hard-pressed to find a chewier, gooier, or more lusciously toothsome treat for so little effort. For that incredible contribution alone, Original Nayonaise gets the official thumbs-up from me.

Miraculous Mayonnaise Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 Cup Vegan Mayonnaise
1 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract
1/2 Cup Granulated Sugar
1 Cup Dark Brown Sugar, Firmly Packed
2 Cups All Purpose Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1 1/2 Cups Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and line two baking sheet with parchment paper or silpats.

In the bowl of your stand mixer, combine the mayonnaise, vanilla, and both sugar. Stir until smooth and homogeneous before adding in the flour, baking soda, and chocolate chip. Begin the mixer on low speed to prevent any of the dry goods from flying out, and allow the machine to gently combine all the ingredients. Be careful not to over-mix to prevent the cookies from becoming too tough. Stir just until the dough comes together and there are no remaining pockets of unincorporated flour.

Use a medium cookie scoop or large spoon to portion out about 3 – 4 tablespoons of dough per cookie. Place them about 1 1/2-inches apart on your prepared baking sheets, and use lightly moistened hands to flatten them out slightly if domed.

Bake one sheet at a time for 11 – 13 minutes, until golden brown around the edges. Immediately pull the silpat or parchment paper off of the hot baking sheet to allow the cookies to cool completely.

Makes 20 – 24 Cookies

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