…is what we call mustard because we’re silly. It works doubly so when you make dijon mustard, because it makes it almost sound fancier.
In order to make dijon mustard you must travel back in time, because these have been sitting in my computer since about…March. Life happens occasionally, and a lot of life happened over the last few months. Not, like, producing a life, just stuff. I’m getting off topic here like woah.
Anyway, to make mustard you need this stuff:
Though you won’t be consuming the canning jar or the water pitcher. To start, measure out your mustard seeds:
Doesn’t seem like a lot, does it? Don’t worry about it. Next, whatever you do, don’t spill them because the little buggers get freaking everywhere. Not that I’d know, because I totally used my canning funnel the first time to get them in there:
Dump the suckers in there…
Now it’s time to uncork the wine! Yaaay wine!
The wine doesn’t want to open, though, so get mad at it.
“Are you shaking your fist at the wine?”
“Yes, and it’s blurry.”
“Why are you shaking your fist at the wine?”
“Because it’s blurry and won’t open”
Record your triumph at opening the wine like a man:
And gingerly measure out about half a cup to go into the mustard you’re making from a vegan cookbook recipe:
Pour that stuff in there!
Don’t bother recording yourself measuring a bit of water out because it’s just water:
Pour that in and make sure to take a poorly centered picture and get your stomach up in there:
“Are you taking a picture of me wiping up?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“*indistinguishable noise of unknowing*”
Now get your ACV out. Mmmm ACV.
Wait no not that much, only about a quarter cup. Jeeze:
Make an unintentional mess:
Take a really blurry picture for no reason and get a foot in the frame.
“Did you take a picture of my foot?”
“…No”
Now add some salt. I think you don’t want to pour a ton in there, but I literally haven’t looked at these pictures since March so I don’t remember how much actually goes in there. Some.
Some salt.
Ta da! That’s mustard. And also some oatmeal things for food on the go, and some Airborne because I guess we were sick around the time I made this?
It looks kinda cool, so hold it up so you can see all the seeds floating around.
And now it sits there for like, two weeks. Not in direct sunlight and not in a too hot or too cool place. Don’t tighten the cap of the mason jar either or it’ll pop up and explode, which just really wouldn’t be good.
You do this so the mustard will mellow. You could sure grind it up right after mixing everything in, but it’ll be super duper acidic and not taste anything like mustard. If that’s your thing (looking at you, English people and your English mustard. It’s like clearing your sinuses with a condiment). When it’s mellowed enough, you want to take maaaybe a teaspoon of the liquid out, like so:
And dump the rest of your sufficiently mellow yellow stuff into a blender.
Get all the seeds out, and keep that rubber spatula handy:
Blend the ever loving bajesus out of the seeds, and make sure to admire how neat it looks in the meantime:
Once it’s blended to your desired consistency, stop it and dangle your face over the top like this:
Once you’ve collected yourself up off the floor, because the smell of mustard definitely kicked you in the face, give it a taste. If it’s too spicy, it can continue to be mellowed out of the fridge for another couple days, but it should be jarred and fridged before too long.
Also your blender will taste like mustard unless you clean it real good. Nothing quite like strawberry, banana, mustard and blueberry smoothies, am I right?
And there you have it!
I have another post in pictures I’ll put up in a bit, but because life’s been busy I don’t know how frequently I’ll put these up. Thanks for reading though!
- The recipe used on this page brought to you by The Homemade Vegan Pantry by Miyoko Schinner. If you’re vegan or cook vegan food, it’s a great one to get.
Vegan by Marriage 