Love Letter to Amsterdam – Moutarde
January 3, 2016
Mustard…gasp, grimace, NO THANK YOU!
My sister will support me on this. We aren’t fans of this condiment. It’s up there with our dislike of pickles.
Today I went to the Amsterdam Sunday Market West held every first Sunday in Westergasfabriek. The square if full of food vendors and the stalls continue indoors with more food and local artists.
I was smitten by the looks of the bread and scent of the grilled sausage at the French vendor, so I decided to stop for a snack.
“Sausage on sourdough or a stick?”
“What kind of mustard?”
Uhm…my insides grimaced. I froze. I had a feeling not liking mustard and saying none would be highly inappropriate here. I asked about the three options available: Sweet, Spicy, or Original. They all looked different. The original had a little of the yellow coloring I associate with mustard in the US. I wasn’t sure which way to go but I decided traditional, original was the way to go.
The “sandwich dance ensued as he began to toast slices of bread.
Spread mustard on the bread while it was still on the grill. Oh, and mustard from a jar not a squeeze bottle so already we were headed in a better direction than the “mustard memories” of my youth.
Add a sliced sausage to the bread and mustard and it’s served up hot, crispy and ready to bite into!
It smelled divine! I took a bite. Slightly anxious by my Mustard Memories…
OH! Mustard, who? French moutarde is where it’s at!
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