My wife thinks I’m a nut. A mustard nut. She’s right.
From a very early age, I’ve loved mustard. Particularly yellow mustard, the kind you’d ladle on hot dogs as a kid when attending baseball games. The hot dog and bun tasted so much better with that jolt of mustard.
Though the journey began many years ago, it continues today, with deeper exploration into the unknowns of mustards prepared with ingredients previously unconsidered. You can put just about anything into mustard to give it a twist. I’ve found that’s a nice touch for adding zest to meals, something always worthwhile. Something new and tasty enhances the dish.
To explore mustards, you must have a certain personality that likes to try new things, or you have a strange twist that focuses intently on its specific tangy qualities. You savor it, so you want to improve on it, figure out what works well with spread.
Honey mustard is good on hard pretzels. Relish mustard is great on hamburgers. Spicey brown mustard helps bologna become something more. Spread Dijon on lamb chops. Stone ground works well on grilled chicken. Those are just a few of the basics to shake up your cupboard. There are more.
In Wisconsin, there is a mustard museum to overwhelm your senses. Yes, there is an entire building dedicated to all the types of mustards from around the globe. You can tour the facility, taste the unique blend of spices mixed to help you create special dishes in your kitchen. While I have not visited this epic facility in Middleton, it is on my list of places to coerce my wife to join me for a tour. We’ll see if that happens. If not, I may have to take a jaunt over to explore on my own, and bring home at least three samples.
I figure three new types of mustard is a good number. One could be terrible, one mediocre and one great. If the odds fall the way they do with most things in life, that’s probably how the samples would average out. The majority of items fall into the middle zone, and once in a while you get a product that deserves an A+, and statistically you probably get a similar percentage that stink and should rank as an “F” on the grading scale.
Recently, my brother-in-law purchased a bottle of mustard for me after I saw a jar in a local store that was described as having dill and beer pale ale. MMmmmmmmmmm, sounded spectacular. It wasn’t. At least on first taste. It made me frown, almost gag. If I’d been at the Mustard Museum, I’d never have purchased it after that one taste. Since I wasn’t, I tried it again, and the spices expanded with a tartness I didn’t encounter upon first lick. The taste grew and grew on me. Now it’s a staple for sandwiches.
There’s a mustard for everyone. And, you’ll find mustards you hate. Dijon, for example, is not on my eat list. That doesn’t stop friends and family from requesting it with roast ham on a regular basis. Keep tasting and savoring.
My wife thinks I’m a nut. A mustard nut. She’s right.
From a very early age, I’ve loved mustard. Particularly yellow mustard, the kind you’d ladle on hot dogs as a kid when attending baseball games. The hot dog and bun tasted so much better with that jolt of mustard.
Though the journey began many years ago, it continues today, with deeper exploration into the unknowns of mustards prepared with ingredients previously unconsidered. You can put just about anything into mustard to give it a twist. I’ve found that’s a nice touch for adding zest to meals, something always worthwhile. Something new and tasty enhances the dish.
To explore mustards, you must have a certain personality that likes to try new things, or you have a strange twist that focuses intently on its specific tangy qualities. You savor it, so you want to improve on it, figure out what works well with spread.
Honey mustard is good on hard pretzels. Relish mustard is great on hamburgers. Spicey brown mustard helps bologna become something more. Spread Dijon on lamb chops. Stone ground works well on grilled chicken. Those are just a few of the basics to shake up your cupboard. There are more.
In Wisconsin, there is a mustard museum to overwhelm your senses. Yes, there is an entire building dedicated to all the types of mustards from around the globe. You can tour the facility, taste the unique blend of spices mixed to help you create special dishes in your kitchen. While I have not visited this epic facility in Middleton, it is on my list of places to coerce my wife to join me for a tour. We’ll see if that happens. If not, I may have to take a jaunt over to explore on my own, and bring home at least three samples.
I figure three new types of mustard is a good number. One could be terrible, one mediocre and one great. If the odds fall the way they do with most things in life, that’s probably how the samples would average out. The majority of items fall into the middle zone, and once in a while you get a product that deserves an A+, and statistically you probably get a similar percentage that stink and should rank as an “F” on the grading scale.
Recently, my brother-in-law purchased a bottle of mustard for me after I saw a jar in a local store that was described as having dill and beer pale ale. MMmmmmmmmmm, sounded spectacular. It wasn’t. At least on first taste. It made me frown, almost gag. If I’d been at the Mustard Museum, I’d never have purchased it after that one taste. Since I wasn’t, I tried it again, and the spices expanded with a tartness I didn’t encounter upon first lick. The taste grew and grew on me. Now it’s a staple for sandwiches.
There’s a mustard for everyone. And, you’ll find mustards you hate. Dijon, for example, is not on my eat list. That doesn’t stop friends and family from requesting it with roast ham on a regular basis. Keep tasting and savoring.