My death row meal would be a large serving of hot chips with a carcinogenic amount of chicken salt and a packed bong to go with it, no stems no seeds no sticks if you can – thanks, officer.
I fucking luuurve chicken salt. As a vegetarian of fifteen years (bar a drunk incident a few years ago involving a BBQ duck with an extra enticing aura hanging in a shop window) (that sounds worse than intended), it’s my last carnivorous-ish pleasure.
I really don’t care whether chicken salt tastes like chicken or not. Does chicken taste like chicken salt is a question I’m way more interested in. If so, get in loser – we’re going to KFC.
My one and only beef with chicken salt is that every milk bar, kebab stand and fish ‘n’ chip shop serves dat chicken salt that makes my vagina skip a beat, but when you buy it directly from Coles or Woolies its completely different shit. Why won’t they let the people have the good stuff? You think we can’t tell the difference Mr. Big Corporation?! I have somewhat of a conspiracy theory on this, but that’s an article for another time, when I feel the people are ready for it – we have enough on our plate in 2020.
Mayo and I, on the other hand, are only acquaintances. Mainly because I don’t fuck with eggs in liquid form.
Just fact-checking that: it seems I’m not the first person to Google it either.
My scientist roommate Geoffrey says mayo is neither a solid nor a liquid but a “non-Newtonian fluid” which means it’s sort of both. I bet you didn’t think you would learn much from an article with ‘Suck A Dick’ in the title. Cum, like mayo, is also a non-Newtonian fluid while we’re on the subject.
Anyway, I only ever have mayo when my dad makes me a sandwich. I tell him no mayo but it always ends up on there. I think he does it out of habit – he is a mayo man after all. I can stomach mayo in these rare moments but that’s the extent of the Vanna-Mayonnaise relationship.
So when a bottle of Chicken Salt Mayo arrived at the office (you can buy it here), needless to say, I was conflicted and concerned but above all, intrigued. To me, it felt as if Philip Seymour Hoffman starred in a Michael Bay movie. It really could go either way, but I would have trusted Philip and chicken salt enough to know they can make something horrible nice.
All there was left to do was buy hot chippies. I almost had a fit when the kebab man asked me whether I wanted chicken salt on my chips or not and I had to say no.
It felt like that. It went against every fibre of my being but I had chicken salt mayo to review, and the chips needed to be a blank canvas for this to be fair. I opted for plain salt.
The back of the bottle says:
CHICKENY, SALTY, CREAMY. GUARANTEED TO MAKE YOU A PROUD AUSTRALIAN.
I don’t think salty chicken cream is gonna redeem Australia’s violent and racist history but it’s worth a crack. Here we go.
I’m not sure if this is the isolation talking but that mayo needs to chill.
I swiped my nose like a credit card, it smells tangy.
First thoughts: This condiment belongs in a condom.
You know those Vice videos of men who have only eaten mac and cheese for the past 20 years and they are on the verge of death? This is what I would imagine their spoof to taste like if they could still produce it. Sorry.
I felt sick immediately. I hate it. My O.G. plan was to try with the chips, try it by itself and then try it on a piece of bread, but I’m literally too chicken.
Time to feed it to my co-workers.
Spyros said it tasted like boiled frankfurts and I was blown away by this description because it’s absolutely true. I still have trauma from eating those as a kid at the ten pin bowling alley in Top Ryde *shudders*.
Our grumpy yet sweet in-house graphic designer Gordy said he didn’t like it but asked if he could have more of my chips. Adrian was the bravest and ate the most. He said you could taste the chicken salt in it when you had a huge amount at once but all in all, it just tastes like repurposed funky mayo. Both boys agree with Sypros, in that it tastes like blended frankfurts.
It’s been a few hours since I’ve had it and I can honestly say I still feel ill. In fact, everything just smells like chicken salt mayo to me now. I am unable to eat dinner. I have PTSD big time. I feel betrayed by the thing I love the most.