Dijon, You’re All Right With Me

Back when I learned of Good Eats’ grilled cheese recipe, I wasn’t terribly enthused about the Dijon mustard called for in the recipe. Really, I haven’t liked Dijon mustard for some time. But, after thinking it over, I realized that maybe it was just me — maybe it was just the particular Dijon that I had been exposed to over the years.

Growing up, my parents enjoyed Grey Poupon with various dishes. And, I tried it several times over the years but didn’t quite like it. But, after seeing Dijon mustard used by so many television chefs, I got to thinking that maybe I should give Dijon another chance. And, I also came to realize that Grey Poupon isn’t the “gourmet French mustard” that it pretended to be — it’s made by Kraft!

So, the next time the grilled cheese episode of Good Eats aired, I paid special attention to the mustard that Alton used (I trust his views on food, after all). I didn’t get that good a look, but I noticed its black label and made a mental note of the jar’s approximate size.

Next time I visited Target, I strolled down their mustard aisle to see what I could find. Sure enough, I found a couple likely candidates from Maille. Their labels are black and their jars looked about right size. There were two varieties: original Dijon and wholegrain. Figuring that the wholegrain version might have more Dijon essence, I decided to go for that one. And, besides, at $2.50, it wasn’t a big investment in case it turned out that I didn’t like it.

That evening, I prepared my tuna sandwiches for the following day (typically, I would have a tuna sandwich for breakfast and lunch, though I’ve been having omelettes for breakfast recently). And, I decided to give the new Maille Wholegrain Dijon a try. So, I slathered on a layer to each of the sandwiches. I prepared the tuna and completed the sandwiches.

Though I made the Dijon-tuna sandwiches last night, I only had a chance to try one today. And, to my pleasant surprise, it was rather tasty. There wasn’t any of that weird Grey Poupon-esque aftertaste and the Maille Dijon was also more flavorful (yet somehow more subtle) than the brown mustards I was used to. As an unexpected bonus, the wholegrain nature of the mustard also created little “flavor pockets” of mustard that burst in each bite.

I’m guessing that Grey Poupon may still not be my cup of tea, but I’m satisfied with my $2.50 investment into Maille. Perhaps I’ll even try the original Dijon next time, just to see how its flavor profile compares to the wholegrain.