GOOGLE "hate mayonnaise" and "love mayonnaise," and you'll find that the hits for one sentiment outnumber the other nearly three to one. Guess which one wins? All you positive thinkers out there lose. Yes, the majority are voicing their vehement distaste for this somewhat gelatinous substance.

I pretty much belong to the no-mayo camp; in fact, if we just take store-bought mayonnaise on a sandwich, you might even see me waving a no-mayo flag and chanting derogatory slogans, something I am loathe to do under most circumstances. I was pretty humbled, however, upon realizing that aioli, which I am fond of, is basically mayonnaise with garlic blended into it. Eggs and oil, and a little vinegar or lemon juice – mayo consists of individually noble ingredients. What happens when they get together in that dreaded jar?

The process that produces mayonnaise – emulsion – is not simple (according to the Penguin Companion to Food). It involves polar and nonpolar molecules, and van der Waals forces (some force that weakly attracts all molecules to each other, named after a Dutch physicist). The undemanding explanation is that emulsion is the appearance of a mixture between two substances that don't actually mix (oil and vinegar in this case), achieved by blending quickly and using an emulsifier (like eggs, which have lecithin and cholesterol to do the job). Forces? The appearance of a mixture?... There is no spoon.

Healthwise, mayonnaise is in the "could be worse" category of foods. Commercial mayonnaises must be at least 65 percent fat (vegetable oil), and most are 100 percent fat. Being a condiment, the "1 Tbsp." serving size (usually 100 calories) is actually close to being realistic, but even that provides a wallop of fat: 17 percent of your recommended total daily amount, and at least 5 percent (in Hain Safflower Mayonnaise) or more (8 percent in Best Foods Real Mayonnaise) of that is saturated fat. That's a lot of yummy fat to sacrifice to something that's not even exciting.

Homemade mayonnaise bears little resemblance to the store-bought item. One of the big points for me is the texture – DIY mayonnaise is fluffy. The consistency of any commercial mayonnaise is gloppy. "Flahffy! Make it flahffy!" was my fellow-cook Nico's order for everything from salad to pastry, back in my restaurant days. Mayo is quick to make and, once you get the hang of it, fun – kind of like a magic trick. Ta-da! Liquid suddenly becoming solid (sort of). But, having eliminated the texture problem, you've still got that heavy, eggy taste, and all that fat.

Then there's tofu mayonnaise. Nayonaise is a common brand of "soy-based sandwich spread." Not sure why it can't call itself mayonnaise – no doubt it's entangled in the arcana of the USDA committees, panels, and fierce lobbying that monitor food labeling. My limited experience with Nayonaise has not rocked my world. It's extra gloppy and could stand to follow Hain's example and add "paprika extractive (for color)" to mask its grayish tone. Also, the sweetener (cane juice), which can cut the heaviness of egg mayonnaise, just seems to interfere with letting the tofu flavor shine through.

What Nayonaise does have going for it is less than half the calories of regular mayo, coming in at 35 per tablespoon (versus 100). I also noticed that the manufacturer's measurement of a tablespoon weighs in at 15 grams, 1 gram more than the egg mayonnaises. I'm shocked that a variation of such magnitude in determining a tablespoon is acceptable – no doubt there's some explanation so involved it would make one's eyes glaze over. The layperson's deduction from this discrepancy may be that it doesn't hurt to apply extra scrutiny to a food label.

Back to my favored solution: Make it yourself. It's easy. You don't even have to worry about emulsifying. Homemade tofu mayonnaise is where it's at – the exclamation "Zesty!" actually popped into my head after I tasted my first attempt, made with 6 ounces of silken tofu (I eyeballed the ounces, based on the whole block being 16 ounces), somewhere between two tablespoons and a quarter cup of oil, a tablespoon and a half of vinegar, plus a dash of salt and one of pepper. (I suggest draining the tofu very thoroughly, or even pressing it a little – though make sure it stays in its shape and doesn't revert to curd.) Choose oil(s) and vinegar or lemon juice according to your taste or to suit the flavor of a dish. Toss everything in a blender (or better yet, a food processor) and press Play until smooth. Add flavor with any number of fresh things, like parsley, scallions, tarragon ... The key is some time in the fridge after blending, so it can gel. Homemade tofu mayo will keep in the fridge for about five days.