Remoulade Sauce

Sauce rémoulade (mayonnaise sharpened with mustard, gherkins, capers, herbs, and anchovy) teaches the grammar of cold sauce derivatives: protect the emulsion, then give it character. There is no pan to hide behind. Every chopped garnish must be dry before it enters the bowl, because brine loosens the mayonnaise and steals the firm, spoonable body the sauce needs.

The source formula assumed a saucier with one pint of Mayonnaise ready at the cold station, plus gherkins, capers, and fines herbes, the parsley, chervil, and tarragon mixture, already chopped. At home, one bowl, a sharp knife, and a clean towel do the work. The pint stays because it is already generous home scale for a dinner party or picnic; only the book's spoon measures change, each large tablespoonful becomes a level tablespoon and the coffeespoon becomes a level teaspoon, making the ratio repeatable without changing its intent. The staffed garnish station is scaffolding and goes. The firm Mayonnaise, mustard, pressed capers, gherkins, herbs, and anchovy essence are the dish and stay.

When it is right, rémoulade sits in soft peaks, pale Dijon gold with green herb flecks and small salty bites, sharp enough to wake cold poultry and rich lobster without drowning either. Reserve a little plain Mayonnaise before mixing, so a sauce loosened by hidden brine can be rebuilt rather than discarded. Ça se rattrape. Press the capers dry before you fold anything together; that is the step that decides the sauce.