Mayonnaise was most likely invented in the mid-1700s on the Mediterranean island of Menorca, though the exact circumstances remain one of food history’s liveliest debates. The most widely accepted story ties it to a French military victory in 1756, but competing claims stretch back further and span multiple countries. What’s clear is that someone, at some point, discovered that vigorously stirring egg yolk into oil produces something almost magical: a thick, creamy sauce that is neither oil nor egg but something entirely new.
The 1756 Story From Menorca
The most popular origin story centers on the French capture of the port city of Mahón on the island of Menorca (part of modern Spain) during the Seven Years’ War. In one version, the personal chef of the Duke of Richelieu, the French commander who led the assault, invented the sauce to celebrate the victory and named it after the city: “mahon-aise.” In another telling, Richelieu himself encountered the sauce at a local inn and brought the recipe back to France.
But there’s a wrinkle. Many Menorcans insist the sauce existed long before the French arrived. They call it “salsa mahonesa” and claim it as a native Catalan invention that predates the French version entirely. In this account, the French didn’t invent anything. They simply discovered a local condiment and rebranded it. Menorcans still proudly defend this version, and while historians can’t settle the question definitively, the connection to Mahón is the one detail nearly every theory agrees on.
Where the Name Comes From
If the origin of the sauce is disputed, the origin of the word is even messier. At least four competing theories exist, and each one has serious proponents.
- Mahón: The most straightforward explanation. The sauce was named after the port city, whether the French invented it there or simply found it.
- Moyeu: The French culinary encyclopedia Larousse Gastronomique suggests “mayonnaise” could be a corruption of “moyeunaise,” derived from the Old French word “moyeu,” meaning egg yolk. This would make the name a simple description of the sauce’s key ingredient.
- Manier: The legendary French chef Antoine Carême preferred to call it “magnonnaise,” insisting the word came from the French verb “manier,” meaning to stir, a nod to the continuous stirring required to make a proper batch.
- Bayonne: Another theory links the name to the French-Basque town of Bayonne, suggesting “mayonnaise” is a corruption of “bayonnaise.”
None of these has been proven beyond doubt. The Mahón connection remains the most commonly cited, but the egg yolk theory is linguistically elegant, and Carême was not someone whose opinions were easily dismissed in the French culinary world.
Why Egg Yolk Makes It Work
At its core, mayonnaise is an emulsion: oil and water (from vinegar or lemon juice) forced into a stable mixture that shouldn’t naturally exist. Oil and water repel each other, and without something to bridge the gap, they separate almost immediately. Egg yolk is that bridge.
The yolk contains proteins and compounds called phospholipids that have a useful trick. One end of these molecules is attracted to water, and the other end is attracted to oil. When you whisk oil into egg yolk drop by drop, these molecules coat each tiny oil droplet, preventing them from merging back together. The result is millions of microscopic oil droplets suspended in a water-based mixture, which is why mayonnaise looks and feels creamy rather than greasy. The acid from vinegar or lemon juice also plays a critical role, bringing the mixture to a pH range (roughly 3.5 to 3.9) where the egg yolk proteins carry minimal electric charge. At that sweet spot, the emulsion reaches its maximum thickness and stability.
From Handmade Sauce to Jarred Product
For over a century after its likely invention, mayonnaise remained a handmade preparation. It was restaurant food and home cooking, whisked by hand one batch at a time. That changed in early 20th-century America.
In 1907, a woman named Mrs. Schlorer in Philadelphia filled twelve glass jelly jars with homemade mayonnaise, attached typewritten labels with rubber bands, and offered them for sale at her family’s delicatessen. They sold in less than an hour. This is credited as the first commercially sold mayonnaise in America, and it proved that people would pay for the convenience of not making the notoriously finicky sauce themselves.
A few years earlier, in 1905, a German immigrant named Richard Hellmann had opened a delicatessen on Columbus Avenue in New York City, where he sold his own ready-made mayonnaise, scooped out in small portions for customers. By 1913, demand had grown enough that he built a factory and began selling Hellmann’s Blue Ribbon Mayonnaise in clear glass jars. A clever detail helped sales take off: the jars were sized for individual households rather than restaurants, and customers could reuse them for home canning afterward. Hellmann even sold rubber sealing rings for a penny to encourage this.
How Mayonnaise Went Global
Mayonnaise didn’t stay European or American for long. In 1925, a Japanese businessman named Toichiro Nakashima introduced Kewpie brand mayonnaise to Japan after encountering the sauce during time spent abroad. His version was distinctly different from Western mayonnaise. He used only egg yolks (no whites) for extra richness, swapped in rice vinegar instead of distilled vinegar, and added MSG, which was then a recently developed household seasoning in Japan. The result was tangier, richer, and packed with umami. Kewpie became a staple of Japanese cooking and remains one of the best-selling condiments in the country a century later.
This pattern repeated across cultures. Mayonnaise proved to be an extraordinarily adaptable base. Russians fold it into layered salads. Colombians squeeze it onto hot dogs alongside crushed potato chips. Koreans mix it with hot pepper paste. The simplicity of the original formula, just egg yolk, oil, and acid, turned out to be its greatest strength. It absorbs new flavors and fits into nearly any cuisine, which is why a sauce that may have started in a single Mediterranean port city is now one of the most consumed condiments on earth.

