Yellow Mustard Review: Boar's Head Yellow Mustard

The nerve of these boars

I'm pissed.

I was sauntering through the local Stop & Shop the other day, procuring some mustard as per usual when I see that the Boar's head selection is on sale. I have always turned my nose up at this brand as it costs three times what a normal mustard would, but I decided to give it an honest try.

This is the worst goddamn mustard I have tasted. Period.

The stars were aligned for this to be a knockout yellow mustard. You're telling me that this sultry yellow sauce is made from pink Himalayan sea salt? Tell me more, why don't you! But when I tried this stuff all on its lonesome, I was immediately appalled.

The taste of this mustard is simultaneously sulfurous and mealy, a combination I had never even thought to exist in a mustard. I'll get to the mealy bit later, because that was a trainwreck all to itself, but I will reiterate: the mustard tasted of brimstone and acridity. I had to taste the mustard again while writing this to remember just how bad it was, and let me tell you, I had to really psych myself up to subject my poor tastebuds to such an experience. I think the issue is the Himalayan sea salt, which adds a chemical precense that I really wish they had never thought of ever doing. What's wrong with kosher salt, Boar's Head? Too pedestrian for you?

And to top it all off, the mustard is washed over with a weird vinegar that somehow, in defiance of all that is good and holy, tastes rancid. Vinegar doesn't go bad, Boar's Head! What the hell are you doing?? Perhaps the most evil part of this, though, is that just for a split second before the aforementioned gustations rear their ugly head, the mustard tastes pretty alright. While all you can taste are the first notes of mustard seed and whatever part of the vinegar they didn't muck up, it titillated me. And then, my world crashed down into disgust.

As I said before, the mouthfeel of the mustard was terrible; I could almost feel each little particle of who-knows-what grating against my taste buds, like some sick bastard had mixed Moon Sand into a bottle of French's as a cruel joke, a torturous blague to a connoisseur like myself. I can't express how flabbergasted I am that Boar's Head managed such a feat - I've had Chinese mustard that was less gritty, and that stuff is literally just mustard powder in water. Maybe Boar's Head accidentally package abrasive water jet liquid into these bottles instead a basic goddamn yellow mustard.

I don't get this. Yellow mustard is the lowest bar, an American bastardization of more sophisticated and/or honest mustards from the Old World, and yet Boar's Head failed on all marks... Well, the bottle is fine, I guess. But I am still mightily irate that a brand with the name recognition of Boar's Head would ruin a gateway mustard like this. If this is the crap people have when they look for a 'good mustard', I understand why so many people say they hate mustard.

1/10. I don't want to talk about it any more.

Specialty Mustard Review: Inglehoffer Creamy Dill Mustard (with Lemon & Capers)

An all-around champion

My relationship with Inglehoffer's products is dichotomous. Sometimes I adore their mustards, and sometimes quite the opposite. I come before you today with the highest of the former, an unexpected treasure I snatched off a Wegman's shelf in the initial pandemic grocery rush. This became not only a favorite of mine, but of my whole family as the days went on in quarantine.

I was taken aback by so much about this mustard. The creaminess was unparalleled, making it an easy spread on anything, even with the herbs. However, the taste is what has it pull ahead: the dill flavor is magnanimous, supported by the acidic bite of lemon and the slight floral nature of the capers. The mustard flavor and texture is like a mild Dusseldorf, filling out the flavor profile very nicely. I went through this mustard very quickly, especially as it became a household favorite as well.

Whilst this might come off as an in-your-face herbal mustard with scant application, I disagree. I've had this on turkey and ham, on pretzels and on rye, and even on a very tasty pork tenderloin (with added fresh dill to amp up the dill flavor - my family's a bunch of dillheads.) I kept finding myself going back to this mustard as a default because it was present but not overbearing, always elevating what I was eating instead of obfuscating or overwhelming the palate.

My last (admittedly retroactive) 10 out of 10 was for the English mustard bulwark, Colman's, mainly out of respect. However, Inglehoffer's Creamy Dill is perfect on its own terms, an excellent mustard that anyone can enjoy. I give it a 10/10 for flavor, balance, texture, and of course, the bottle.