Using Mayo, Ketchup, Mustard is refreshingly simple—no account needed, no complicated interfaces, just pure condiment democracy in action.
The slot machine isn't just eye candy—it's a deliberate choice. Slot machines represent chance and possibility, but our version has been hacked by democracy. The reels don't spin randomly; they're magnetically drawn to whichever condiment has earned the most votes.
When you hit SPIN, you're not gambling. You're consulting a database of human preference that grows more accurate with every vote. It's like asking a thousand people at once, "What belongs on this food?" and getting an instant answer.
Every time you vote, you're not just expressing an opinion—you're shaping reality for future users. Your vote gets added to the running tally for that food-condiment combination. If enough people agree with you, the recommendation changes. Democracy in real-time.
Here's the beautiful part: you can change your vote. Search for the same food again, and if you've evolved your condiment philosophy (or just want to see what happens), cast a different vote. Your most recent vote replaces the old one. We're not interested in permanent records—we want your honest, current opinion.
Traditional recipe sites rely on a single chef's expertise. Food blogs represent one person's taste. Restaurant reviews reflect a critic's palate. All valid, all limited.
Crowdsourcing flips the script. Instead of trusting one expert, we aggregate thousands of opinions to find patterns. If 80% of people vote mayo for potato salad, that's not bias—that's consensus. If mustard dominates pretzels, the data doesn't lie.
The more people vote, the more reliable the recommendations become. Early votes matter, but as the dataset grows, outliers get smoothed out and true preferences emerge. It's collective intelligence at work.
Search for a food not in our database yet, and congratulations—you're a pioneer. You'll be the first to vote and establish the initial recommendation for that food.
But there's a catch (a good one): Claude AI reviews every new food submission. This invisible curator ensures that only legitimate food items make it into the database. It's our defense against spam, nonsense, and people trying to add "concrete" or "my ex's cooking" to the system.
If Claude approves your food (which happens instantly), your vote is recorded and the food joins the database. Future users will see your initial recommendation and can vote to confirm or challenge it. If Claude rejects it, you'll get a polite error message. Try again with an actual food.
Why do certain condiments pair with certain foods? It's not just tradition—it's chemistry and biology.
When you vote, you're not just saying "I like this." You're expressing an intuitive understanding of flavor balance, even if you can't articulate why that condiment feels right.
Good question. The condiment universe is vast: sriracha, aioli, chimichurri, tahini, tzatziki, and thousands more. So why limit it to three?
Simplicity breeds clarity. With three choices, decisions are quick, data accumulates fast, and results become meaningful sooner. Add twenty condiments, and votes fragment into insignificance. Nobody wins.
Plus, Mayo, Ketchup, and Mustard represent fundamental flavor profiles: fat, sweet-umami, and acid. They're the primary colors of the condiment world. Mix them (conceptually or literally) and you can approximate most other sauces.
It forces tough decisions, which makes voting more interesting. Easy choices don't spark debates. Hard choices create the data patterns that make this site useful.
As the database grows, patterns emerge. Some are obvious: hot dogs lean mustard, fries love ketchup. Others are surprising. That's when crowdsourcing reveals insights that no single chef could provide.
Regional preferences surface. Cultural differences appear. Generational divides show up in the data. The slot machine becomes a mirror reflecting how humans actually eat, not how cookbooks say they should.
Your votes are completely anonymous. We don't track who voted for what—only the aggregate counts matter. You can vote for ketchup on ice cream (please don't) without anyone knowing it was you.
This anonymity is crucial. People vote more honestly when there's no judgment attached. Social pressure disappears. Only taste preference remains.
Mayo, Ketchup, Mustard isn't a static reference—it's a living, evolving database of human taste. Every vote changes it slightly. Trends shift. New foods appear. Old recommendations get challenged and sometimes overthrown.
You're not just using a tool. You're participating in an ongoing experiment about collective decision-making, taste perception, and the democratic potential of the internet. No pressure—but also, kind of a big deal.
If you have more questions, check out our FAQ page for deeper dives into common queries. Want to understand our philosophy better? Visit the About page. Curious about the food science behind condiment pairing? Explore our Blog for articles on flavor, culture, and the eternal condiment debate.