CUTTING THE MUSTARD
This article on specialty mustards first appeared in the Wine
Spectator.
It includes a recipe for:
Chicken
a la Moutarde from Low
Fat Cooking to
Beat the Clock.
On October 27, 1986 the Red Sox lost the World Series to the Mets. Heartbroken,
Sox fan Barry Levenson decided he needed a hobby to take his mind off his
grief. While strolling through a supermarket in Mt. Horeb, Wis., he
came upon the mustard section and, for no particular reason, wondered how
many mustards he could collect. Over three thousand mustards later,
Levenson is still collecting, as curator of the Mt. Horeb Mustard Museum
and executive director of the World Mustard Association.
All this probably wouldn't be possible if the field of specialty mustards hadn't exploded in the past decade. According to Ron Tanner, vice president of the National Association of the Specialty Food Trade, "New companies are coming along all the time, but there are also existing companies who have decided to expand their product lines to include mustards along with salsas and barbecue sauces."
The ubiquitous phosphorescent yellow hot dog mustard has given way to a medley of mustards that look like they came right off the menus of the most au courant restaurants. "I've learned a lot of different flavor combinations in my 15 years of restaurant work and I've put them into mustards which are a good base for adding flavors," says Susan Furst, who, with her sister Martha, owns Terrapin Ridge, an Illinois company that makes such mustards as Wasabi Lime, Mole, and Thai Curry & Sweet Basil.
"The variety we have in this country today is up there with any other country in the world," Levenson says. "Part of the reason is the growth of the specialty food industry in general. Another reason is that mustard represents a way of getting different flavors easily." It's also a way of getting flavors with no fat and between 5 and 20 calories per tablespoon.
Oddly enough, the newfangled American mustard concoctions aren't so new. In the 17th century, the French were adding things like truffles and lavender to their mustards. While mustard in cooking predates the Egyptian pharaohs, it wasn't until the early 18th century that a system for creating mustard powder - thus making the smooth mustards of today possible - was created in England. Until then, mustards were thick pastes made from whole seeds. The city of Dijon in northern Burgundy became a mustard making capital because local monks grew mustard seeds and combined them with vinegar made from the region's wine. Dijon mustard doesn't have to contain wine although a 1937 decree governing production allows it, along with verjus (unfermented grape juice).
The French still dominate the Dijon category, but Old Spice, an American Dijon, took a bronze medal in the 1999 World Wide Mustard Competition in March (produced by the Napa Valley Mustard Festival). Another American Dijon, Inglehoffer, took silver medals in the two previous competitions. (There are no American standards for Dijon mustard. Any American-produced mustard can call itself Dijon.)
Old Spice and Inglehoffer are made by Beaverton Foods Inc., of Beaverton, Ore, the granddaddy of specialty mustards, which produces 100 varieties under its own labels (which also include the Beaver and Napa Valley brands) and dozens more for other companies. Company president Gene Biggi started making specialty mustards in the 1950s for companies like Hickory Farms, which wanted something to go with its sausages. "They didn't want ball park mustard and they couldn't afford to import Dijon. So my father created a sweet and hot mustard based on a Russian hot mustard recipe," says Dominic Biggi, company vice president.
Sweet Hot is also a category in the World Wide Mustard Competition. The other 10 are: Coarse Grain, Classic Hot, Pepper Hot, Horseradish, Herb, Fruit, Spirit (essentially an alcoholic beverage), American Yellow, Deli/Brown, and Exotic. Robert Rothschild Raspberry Honey Mustard took first place in the Sweet Hot and was the overall Grand Champion. Robert Rothschild mustards also took first in Fruit (Apricot Ginger), second in Herb (Champagne Garlic) and third in Pepper Hot (Roasted Chipotle).
"In the past we've offered more basic mustards, but we've found out that the public wants something different," says Laura Miller, a spokeswoman for Robert Rothschild in Urbana, Ohio. However, sometimes different can be just plain weird, like the ill-fated Mint Mustard, which Miller admits tasted more like mint than mustard.
It may seem obvious, but one of the criteria for judging in the competition is that a mustard has to taste like mustard. "You have to close your eyes and say, 'this is definitely mustard,' " Levenson says. "With some mustards you can't really tell." Category fidelity is another criterion. If a mustard is in the herb category, for example, you have to be able to taste herbs (which include garlic and onion). Overall impressions is the third standard. The mustard must be balanced and have a good, long finish.
Levenson explains that the finish or final impression of mustard can be as important it is with wine. "Some mustards might smell fine and taste fine initially, but defects really show up on the finish," he says. Bitterness is a common flaw, as is starchiness, a raw flour taste. Some coarse grained mustards, those that use whole seeds, can taste gritty rather than grainy.
In my own mustard competition, the popular Grey Poupon had a winy sweetness and was the mildest among seven Dijons tasted. At the other end of the spectrum was the sinus clearing Delouis, which finished third in the mustard championships. In between, Maille, Bornier, and Edmond Fallot were surprisingly mild. Roland Extra Strong was second to Delouis in strength, and Silver Palate came up creamy with just enough zip.
Pommery has always been a leader in the coarse grain category, but I found this venerable French mustard too vinegary and grainy. At Levenson's suggestion, I tried it on a baked potato instead of sour cream. My advice? Stick with the sour cream.
Even though it's really more of a mustard sauce, Norman Bishop Garlic Dill is wonderful on chilled shrimp, with vegetables and as a coating for rack of lamb. I was less impressed with the somewhat pasty Rothschild Champagne Garlic on the rack of lamb.
Rothschild Honey Raspberry, like so many specialty, and especially sweet hot mustards, was too sweet. However the Silver Palate Sweet and Rough mitigated this problem with a coarse grain texture and plenty of spice. It's an excellent partner for ham, either as a baster or slathered on cold slices in a sandwich. Ditto for the Rothschild Apricot Ginger mustard, which also produced a nice glaze for roasted turkey breast. Stonewall Maine Maple Champagne had a texture somewhere between applesauce and pabulum, but was pleasantly sweet and sour enough to go well with ham and rack of lamb.
There's no way you'd pick the soupy, sea foam green Terrapin Ridge Wasabi Lime as a mustard, though it was good with chilled shrimp. The Thai Curry & Sweet Basil had more texture with bits of herbs and reminded me of a satay sauce that could be used on roasted lamb or pork.
English hot mustards can blow you away with one-dimensional heat but Elsenham Strong Traditional Mustard was less sinus popping than Colman's and it had a richer, more nuanced flavor.
What you drink with mustard-laced foods depends on the type of mustard. Herbal mustards on a rack of lamb work nicely with a cabernet franc from the Loire. With less robust meats, try a fruity Beaujolais. For an all-purpose wine, choose a German Riesling, preferably a crisp Mosel with low enough alcohol to avoid accentuating any heat and with sufficient fruit to match any sweetness in the mustard.
Variety aside, Americans lag far behind the French and English in consumption. Try mustard with cheese - especially cheddar with fruit mustards and cider or pale ale; in salad dressings; and on cooked vegetables. Then again, you might be satisfied with a bag of pretzels and 3000 or so mustards.
HOW TO GET IT
Specialty mustards are a relative pittance, considering how much flavor they provide. A 9-ounce jar (sizes vary widely) usually costs less than $5. Quality food markets will often carry a dozen or more different mustards.
Here are a few mail order sources:
Beaverton Foods, Beaverton, OR 800-223-8076
Mount Horeb Mustard Museum Catalogue, Mt Horeb, WI 800-438-6878
Robert Rothschild, Urbana, OH 800-356-8933
Stonewall Kitchen, York, ME 800-207-5267
Terrapin Ridge, Freeport, IL 800-999-4052
CHICKEN
A LA MOUTARDE top
From LOW
FAT COOKING TO BEAT THE CLOCK
This is a variation of the French classic, lapin a la moutarde, rabbit with
mustard sauce. The mustard not only adds flavor but thickens the sauce
without butter or flour. And by using a tarragon or herbes de Provence
flavored Dijon, you don't need any other seasoning except salt, pepper, and
a sprinkling of parsley. If you can't find the flavored mustards, use
plain Dijon or mix it with fresh (not dried) tarragon or herbes de Provence
- 1 tablespoon olive oil Four 5-to 6-ounce boneless, skinless chicken breast halves, pounded (by the butcher if possible) to half their original thickness
- Salt and freshly ground pepper
- 1/2 cup tarragon or herbes de Provence flavored Dijon mustard (or plain Dijon mustard mixed with 1 tablespoon fresh chopped tarragon or 1 teaspoon herbes de Provence)
- 2 shallots
- 4 sprigs parsley, preferably flat-leaf
- 1/2 cup dry white wine
- 1cup fat-free, reduced-sodium chicken stock
- One 8-ounce package of medium egg noodles or egg fettuccine
1) Run the hot water tap and put 11/2 quarts hot tap water in each of 2 pots (one large enough to eventually hold all the water and noodles). Cover and bring both pots to a boil over high heat, 7 to 9 minutes.
2) Meanwhile, put the oil in a heavy 12-inch, nonstick saute pan over medium heat. Season the chicken with salt and pepper. (If the butcher hasn't done so, pound the chicken between two sheets of aluminum foil or wax paper with the side of a cleaver or a meat pounder before seasoning.) Brush one side of each breast with 2 teaspoons of mustard and put the mustard-coated side down in the sauté pan. Brush the top side of the breasts with 2 more teaspoons of mustard. Increase the heat to medium-high. Cook the chicken for 3 minutes.
3) While the chicken is cooking, peel and chop the shallots. Chop the parsley leaves. Turn the chicken over. Add the shallots to the pan, and shake to evenly distribute. Cook for 1 minute. Add the wine and stock. Cover and bring to a boil over high heat.
4) When the water for the noodles boils, transfer the water from the smaller pot to the larger pot. Add 11/2 teaspoons of salt to the larger pot and add the noodles. Stir well and cook for 5 minutes, or until the noodles are firm but tender. Drain
5) Meanwhile, uncover the pan with the chicken breasts and let liquid reduce over high heat. As soon as the chicken shows no pink inside (cut into one piece to check if you're not sure), remove the chicken to a plate and cover with foil to keep warm. Add the remaining mustard to the pan. Stir with a wooden spoon just until the mixture begins to thicken, about 1 minute. Add the drained noodles to the pan and toss briefly.
6) With a slotted spoon, scoop out the noodles and put them on a large platter. Put the chicken on top of the noodles. Using a rubber scraper, pour any sauce left in the pan on top of the chicken. Sprinkle with the parsley.
Serves 4.
Per serving: Calories: 477, Fat: 8g /17%, Saturated Fat: 1g