In some Mediterranean cultures, aioli refers very specifically to a sauce made from olive oil that has been emulsified into mashed garlic, usually with a mortar and pestle—and that's it. (Well, salt too, natch.) No egg yolk, no acid, just a sh*t-ton of garlic mashed up with oil to form a fluffy, vampire-repelling emulsion. It's not that often that you see this hyper-traditional version in restaurants these days, partially because it's labor intensive and breaks easily. (A "broken" emulsion is one in which the droplets of oil have fallen out of suspension, leaving you with a greasy, separated sauce.)
But, as they do, things change. Nowadays, the word aioli is pretty much synonymous with mayo, and is often just a simple mayonnaise (store-bought or homemade) that is flavored generously with garlic—a nod to its origins. But you'll also see it used to refer to any variety of elaborately-seasoned mayo, whether it's one kicked up with sambal, dried chiles, ginger, paprika, black garlic, roasted shallots, or fish sauce. It kind of ends up being a catchall term that means, "mayo, plus something else." Which we can't really get mad about, because it tastes good as hell. It brings a deeper appeal to just about any bread you could spread it on, French fry you could dip it into, or veggie you could drizzle it all over.
So, yeah. Aioli can be a few different things. It can be mayo. It can be traditional. It can be experimental. It can be made with olive oil. It can be made with garlic. But if there’s one thing aioli should always be, it’s that it should be spread with a heavy, loving hand. Because aioli is a true light in this dark world we live in.
Stir some paprika into Hellmann's and call it aioli—we're not gonna stop you.
Like deviled eggs—but faster, easier, more delicious, and fancier-sounding.
