Mayo, Ketchup, Mustard is a crowdsourced condiment recommender. Enter any food, spin the slot machine, and see what condiment the community recommends. You can vote to agree or disagree, shaping future recommendations for everyone.
The slot machine is a fun visual interface that displays the recommended condiment based on community votes. When you spin, the reels animate and land on Mayo, Ketchup, or Mustard—whichever has the most votes for that food item. It's not random; it's data-driven!
The recommendations are entirely based on real voting data from users like you. If a food has previous votes, the condiment with the highest vote count is recommended. If it's a new food, you'll be the first to vote and create the initial recommendation.
Yes! If you search for a food that isn't in our database, you'll be prompted to suggest a condiment for it. Your submission is validated by AI to ensure it's a real food item. If approved, it's added to the database with your vote recorded.
Your vote is recorded anonymously and added to the vote count for that food and condiment combination. The more people vote, the more accurate the recommendations become. You're helping build a crowdsourced database of condiment preferences!
No. We don't collect personal information beyond what's necessary to prevent spam and abuse (like IP-based rate limiting). Your votes are anonymous, and we don't track your identity. For more details, read our Privacy Policy.
We focused on the "Big Three" universally recognized condiments: Mayo, Ketchup, and Mustard. Limiting choices makes voting simple, creates fun debates, and ensures we collect enough data for meaningful recommendations. Plus, it forces tough decisions—which is half the fun!
If the AI determines your submission isn't a valid food item (due to spam, nonsense, or other issues), you'll see an error message. This protection keeps the database clean and useful for everyone. Try submitting a different, legitimate food item.
Currently, the site is designed for individual food lookups via the slot machine interface. We don't provide a browsable list of all foods, as the experience is centered around searching for specific items and participating in voting.
Both! While we take data accuracy and user experience seriously, the concept is lighthearted and meant to be entertaining. Condiment preferences are subjective, and we're not here to declare one superior to another. It's a playful social experiment wrapped in a slot machine interface. Think of it as Wikipedia for condiments—crowdsourced, democratic, and occasionally delightfully controversial. We're serious about the data collection, but we never take ourselves too seriously. After all, we're talking about sandwich toppings, not nuclear physics.
Yes! If you search for the same food again and vote for a different condiment, your previous vote will be updated. Each user can cast one vote per food item, but you're free to change your mind. Maybe you voted ketchup on eggs in a moment of weakness, then came to your senses the next day (no judgment, we've all been there). Simply search for "scrambled eggs" again, vote mayo, and your conscience—and our database—will be cleared. Your most recent vote is what counts, allowing for personal growth in condiment philosophy.
That's what voting is for! If the slot machine recommends Mayo but you think Ketchup is better, click the Ketchup button to cast your vote. Your vote counts equally with everyone else's and will influence future recommendations for that food. Democracy in action. If enough people agree with you, the recommendation will shift over time. One vote won't flip everything overnight, but collective dissent absolutely changes outcomes. You're not just disagreeing—you're participating in condiment activism.
Accuracy improves with vote volume. A food with 500 votes reflects genuine consensus. A food with 3 votes? Still forming its identity. Early votes have outsized influence, but as more people participate, true patterns emerge. The wisdom of crowds principle applies here: individual biases cancel out when aggregated at scale. Foods like "hot dogs" and "french fries" have strong, stable recommendations because hundreds of people have weighed in. Niche foods like "kimchi pancakes" might still be in the discovery phase. The more you and others vote, the smarter the system becomes.
Simplicity is a feature, not a limitation. Mayo, Ketchup, and Mustard represent three fundamental flavor profiles: fat, sweet-umami, and acid. They're universally recognized, culturally neutral (mostly), and available everywhere from gas stations to gourmet restaurants. Adding 20 condiments would fragment votes and dilute data quality. Plus, forcing tough choices creates more interesting debates. When you can't pick sriracha, you have to think harder about whether mayo's richness or mustard's tang better suits your food. Constraints breed creativity—and better data. That said, we're always listening. If the community overwhelmingly demands expansion, we'll consider it.
The slot machine lands on whichever condiment currently has the highest vote count. If Mayo and Ketchup are perfectly tied (rare but possible), the system uses a consistent tiebreaker rule to ensure stability—typically favoring the condiment that reached that vote count first. You won't see the reels spinning endlessly in indecision. Once you vote and break the tie, future spins will reflect the new leader. Ties are actually fascinating moments—they reveal foods where opinion is genuinely split, cultural battlegrounds like "grilled cheese" or "corn on the cob" where no clear winner has emerged.
Occasionally, yes. Claude AI is conservative by design to protect data quality. If your food submission contains unusual spelling, slang, or is hyper-specific (e.g., "Dave's leftover meatloaf from Tuesday"), it might get rejected even if it's technically food. The system errs on the side of caution. If you believe your submission was wrongly rejected, try rephrasing: use common names, standard spellings, and general food categories rather than brand names or ultra-specific dishes. "Meatloaf" works better than "Dave's leftover meatloaf from Tuesday." The AI learns over time, but it's not perfect—just like crowdsourcing itself.
Not yet! Currently, the site is focused on the core experience: search, spin, vote. We've intentionally kept the interface minimal to avoid overwhelming users and to let the slot machine be the star. That said, voting statistics, popular foods, and regional trends are all fascinating potential features we're considering for future updates. Imagine seeing "Top 10 Most Controversial Foods" or "Mayo's Biggest Wins." If there's demand, we'll build it. For now, the mystery is part of the charm—you never know if you're the first voter or the thousandth.
No. We don't collect personal information, so there's nothing to sell. Your votes are anonymous and stored as aggregate counts. We use cookies for spam prevention (rate limiting) and to remember your guest ID, but these aren't linked to your identity. No email addresses, no profiles, no tracking your condiment preferences across the web. The only data we care about is collective: which condiment wins for which food. Your privacy is protected by our complete lack of interest in who you are—we only care about what you think mayo belongs on. For full details, see our Privacy Policy.
Because slot machines are fun! The spinning reels create anticipation, suspense, and a satisfying "reveal" moment. It's theater. We could just display "Mayo: 47 votes, Ketchup: 23 votes, Mustard: 12 votes" in a boring table, but where's the joy in that? The slot machine interface transforms data delivery into an experience. It's a deliberate design choice: gamification makes participation more engaging. You're not just querying a database—you're pulling a lever and watching destiny unfold. The outcome is data-driven, but the presentation is all showmanship. And honestly, who doesn't love watching reels spin?