Mustard, But…

I love mustard as a condiment. I thought about how much I enjoy it as I added it to a sandwich at lunchtime today. It was a great capper on a tortilla rolled with Muenster cheese, ham, and turkey. It added a vibrant, flavorful tang.

Mustard is a terrific, flavorful item. It enhances just about everything it touches. It’s the counterbalance to mayonnaise, another favorite, in the magnificent flavor spectrum that is food.

Honey mustard is a special treat as well, when used appropriately. It’s also a great dipping sauce for chicken tenders and other fried delights. I’ve even enjoyed it on a hamburger or two, when the consistency is just right and the bread is a little buttery. It works on certain types of french fries.

Whenever I hear the scripture about having the faith of a mustard seed, I think, “My faith is delicious.”

Generally speaking, I really love mustard.

Photo by Adrian Dorobantu on Pexels.com

However

The one type of mustard that I do not like, however, is dijon mustard. It has all the sting of horseradish and none of the delicious charm. I question why dijon mustard was invented, and what sick person who was likely also of low moral character invented it.

It serves as a useful reminder that it’s best to look carefully and judge each mustard on its own merits. You can’t just blindly grab a mustard and put it on a sandwich, or fries, or hot dog. You have to consider and examine the mustard to make sure it is as it appears.

You may laugh, but I have added mustard from one of those self-service lard pumps and realized I had just doused an order of food in dijon mustard.

Of course I still ate it after scraping off as much as I could. That’s not the point. The point is that it stole my joy. We make compromises in life, but they can still be disappointing. Dijon mustard is always disappointing.

That’s why I never understood those Grey Poupon commercials. Aside from these psychopaths requesting and sharing condiments among strangers, they were requesting a bad condiment.

If someone drove up and asked me for dijon mustard I’d point at them and howl like Donald Sutherland at the end of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

Donald Sutherland Invasion of the Body Snatchers | kessel korner
To be fair, I also made this face when Agent Bun said Star Wars movies were the same in essence as MCU movies. Maybe the sequel trilogy was, but don’t you dare say that about the first 6, or Solo: A Star Wars Story.

In Closing

I think I’ve made my point. Mustard is a wonder and a treat, but even wonderful things can be tortured into a miasma of tastelessness. I’m sure there’s a lesson in there about something that you dislike, too, so let’s just pretend I was speaking secretly just to you and we understand each other a little better.

Unless, of course, you like dijon mustard. Then I can’t understand you at all.

2 thoughts on “Mustard, But…

  1. I’m not a great lover of french fries, but there are two notable exceptions, both involving mustard. First, I loved going to the Fishmarket in Alexandria, ordering a burger and fries, and dipping those delicious steak fries in their spicy, brown mustard. Second, I still love going to Buffalo Wing Factory in Chantilly and ordering boneless wings on a bed of fries drenched in honey mustard, spicy or otherwise. Mustard makes even french fries delicious. It’s by far my favorite condiment, and it has yet to disappoint me in any form.

    And Rogue One is the best Star Wars movie. Now I’m going to have to watch it again soon.

    Liked by 1 person

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