Next post, I’m going to surrender every shred of foodie cred I’ve earned. I’m going down in style and you’re coming with me. This week, then, let’s gather our supplies. Follow these instructions, and you’ll be set for the apocalypse.
First, we make the mustard.
Some people plan their vacations around spectacular destinations in the natural world, or decadent spa getaways where the week becomes one endless sauna, skin renewing massage and herbal spritzer. Then there’s The Smithsonian, 42nd Street, Tate Modern. Other culturally curious spots are the Salem Witch Trial Memorial, the Glass Bottle Houses, the Tower of Baa, the house-sized representation of the shoe that old lady lived in, and the field of Plexiglas cows lowing halfway between St. Louis and Milwaukee.
But Simon and me? We travel for farms and fondue. And we brake for mustard museums.
This mustard recipe is a home reverse-construction of a wonderfully sweet and spicy mustard that we picked up two years ago when we came to a screeching halt before the Mt. Horeb Mustard Museum. The original mustard was made by a small company called Slimme and Nunne’s, and the mustard varietal, Sweet and Nicely Spicy, is striking stuff. In fact, though we’d tried a lot of mustard (the shop would let you sample your way through all 300+ varieties of mustard if you had the time and the stomach for it) we were so stricken that we bought four jars of it. We wept when we opened the last jar sometime around Christmas, and this July we took the very long way home from Iowa just so we could pass through Mt. Horeb and stock up on enough to get us through the winter.
Scapes are one thing, but it’s not practical to drive 350 miles for mustard, and I resolved to figure out a passable formula before we polished off the spoils of this last trip. And with this recipe I’ve come pretty darn close. The secret seems to be that it’s more nectar (or, in the store-bought version, corn syrup) than mustard.
Here’s a quick note on mustard’s health properties (oh, you were waiting for it, weren’t you?) Mustard is a Brassica, and part of the cruciferous family of plants, which means that eating your mustard is almost as good as eating your broccoli. As such, mustard seeds (which is what mustard powder is made of, which is what mustard paste is begot from) contain lots of phytonutrients. I won’t go into which ones, but if you’re interested you can look here. Even if you can’t pronounce them, you’ll still get the benefits of said phytonutrients, and the ones in mustard (and broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, etc) have been studied for their ability to thwart cancer – both actively and preventatively.
Now, make your mustard!
The Home Version of Sweet and Curiously Spicy Mustard
1/2 cup dry mustard powder
¼ cup + 2 tablespoons water
¾ cup agave nectar*
½ cup + 2 tablespoons honey*
1/2 cup cider vinegar
pinch of allspice (maybe 1/8 teaspoon, not much)
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
¼ – ½ teaspoon hot red pepper flakes (I used a combo of Ancho and Aleppo, but I always do)
Two shakes of hot sauce
2 tablespoons cornstarch or tapioca starch
2 tablespoons cold water
* You can use a combination of honey and agave nectar, or you could also probably use one or the other. I use both because the nectar is sweeter and thinner, while the honey adds a consistency that pulls the other ingredietns together. Also, the scent of the honey holds up against the other, harsher smells, and that changes the palate experience.
In a small bowl combine mustard powder and the water and whisk vigorously until well combined and smooth. Let sit for about 15 minutes. Then, with a spatula scrape the mustard into a small nonreactive saucepan and add the agave nectar and honey. Stir well, then turn heat on medium low and warm slightly. Add the vinegar, allspice, red pepper, black pepper, salt and hot sauce. Stir well and bring to a simmer. Allow to simmer on stove for about 5 minutes, stirring often.
Combine the starch and the cold water in a small bowl and stir until it’s a paste. Add about half of this to the mustard mix on the stove, stir well, and let simmer lightly for a few minutes. It will thicken quickly, and at this point you can judge if you’d like to add more of the starch mixture or leave it as is. Allow it to cool, and place the mustard in jars (this will yield about 9 ounces – a decent sized jar plus some.
If you make a lot of it you could water boil it to seal the jars, but it’s so easy to make that it’s not necessary. Opened jars keep, refrigerated, for about 2 months.
If you make this, I really, really want to know: were Simon and I crazy to drive hazy, humid, farmland roads to snag a few more jars of this stuff? Or is it as good as it is in our vivid, food-obsessed minds? What idiosyncratic uses for mustard have you got, and how will you use this one?