Mustard Mission

It’s mid-November. Our birch trees are bare and their leaves are now piled high on the deck.  I just took this picture as a reminder of those beautiful, yellow leaves, because Verne is about to get out the blower and remove every last one in preparation for rain tomorrow. They are impossible to remove after a hard rain (even a light rain), not to mention they become a slippery (and hazardous) mess. This has been our routine for at least a decade now and is the result of a compromise after years of disagreeing on the timing of the raking or brooming of fall leaves (more recently, blowing of leaves). I love to watch the leaves fall from the trees and accumulate on the deck. Like pumpkins, it screams: Autumn! While Verne doesn’t need the extra work of removing the leaves multiple times (God knows, 40 acres keeps the man busy), he was always determined to do it at least two or three times during October-November until about ten years ago when we reached a compromise: the first sign of rain determines the timing for leaf blowing. End of discussion.

What does this have to do with the title: Mustard Mission? The color, of course! The mustard color of the leaves reminded me of our experience last week…making and canning our own mustard. I know a few of you are shaking your heads right now (Sally, in particular). While we both love mustards of all kinds, we really never intended to take on the condiment as a canning project. However…one of my jobs with the Master Food Preservers program is to coordinate public classes. Our November class was one called Holiday Favorites and included an overly ambitious agenda of canned and dehydrated items. As the date neared, I checked with the presenters to see if any needed help preparing their items. Never did I expect my offer to be accepted, but it was and the project was to make two of the three mustards that would be demonstrated: Cranberry Mustard and Octoberfest Beer Mustard, both prepared and then water bath processed.

I read the recipes and was pleased that there was no need to make the 30-minute drive to town…we had everything needed to make both mustards. I’m so obsessed with Penzey’s Spices that it’s rare that I don’t have just the right spice for the job. In this case, we needed powdered mustard and both yellow and brown mustard seeds. Check. Fresh cranberries (I repurposed the cranberries I’d just purchased that week for a conserve). Check. Beer (Verne always keeps a supply of Deschutes Pale Ale in the fridge). Check. We started by soaking the seeds in the liquid (vinegar for the one and beer for the other) for a couple of hours and then proceeded to grind the moistened mustard seeds into a grainy paste, mix it with the other ingredient, and simmer until it was reduced by about one-third; taste (that was our idea); jar and water-bath process. As it turns out that next-to-the-last step, “taste”, was a big mistake. Here’s my warning to anyone making mustard: DO NOT TASTE THE MUSTARD AT THIS POINT!

The beer mustard in particular was unbelievably bitter! It was inedible to say the least. I wouldn’t have given it to my worst enemy, let alone a group (32 people attended the event) of strangers. Well, we canned the Cranberry Mustard as it was tolerable, but the failure went down the disposal. It wasn’t even fit to give to the chickens! I have to say it’s often the mess-ups that prove to be the most valuable learning experiences. A little too late, I sat down at my computer and began to research homemade mustard. It didn’t take long to learn that one should never taste the mustard immediately after making it. Why? Because the natural enzymes in the mustard seeds are activated when the seeds are crushed and combined with water or other liquids and are most potent and bitter when freshly prepared. Apparently, warm water de-activates the enzymes and breaks down some of the pungent compounds, whereas cold water keeps them intact. Likewise, vinegar produces a more mellow product than a full-flavored beer.  We’ll never know if our Octoberfest Beer Mustard would have mellowed had we waited those two or three days. It does appear that we did everything right to produce a full-flavored mustard that packs a powerful punch if that’s the objective! I doubt that we’ll be trying our hand at another beer mustard any time soon. However, the third mustard in the trio was delicious and I plan to make it: Wine Sage Mustard. It was a pale yellow color with bits of minced sage leaves and a base of white wine. Yum!

Here’s a few other things I’ve learned about making mustard. Mustard is about as simple to make as jam. There are just two essential ingredients: mustard powder (or seeds) and a liquid to bind the spice. Its heat is directly related to the type of seed used: yellow (sometimes called white) is the mildest, brown and black seeds are much hotter and more pungent. The liquid used to bind the mustard may add flavor and additional heat or pungency based on the liquid’s reaction to the enzymes. The mildest mustards and longest lasting are made with yellow mustard seeds and lots of vinegar, while the hottest mustards are made with the darker seeds and use beer as a liquid base. Mustards last for months in the refrigerator, although they will tame over time and lose much of their pungency within about six months whether they are homemade or commercially produced. I’ve heard people say and read various internet sources that suggest mustard is shelf stable without water bath processing. This is absolutely NOT TRUE! Freshly made mustard either needs to be refrigerated or water bath processed to make it shelf-stable. Don’t believe everything you read (with the exception of my Blog)! Oh, one more thing...ground yellow mustard seeds are a beautiful pale shade of yellow. It is the addition of turmeric that gives French's mustard it's brilliant yellow color.

This mission is far from complete. Expect more about mustard in the future…