Estragonsenf

Every Würstelstand in Austria has a squeeze bottle of Estragonsenf sitting next to the Käsekrainer. It's as much a part of the landscape as the church spires. Sharp, herbal, with that unmistakable golden-green color from fresh tarragon worked through the grain. Most Austrians don't think twice about it. They squeeze it on a sausage and keep walking.

Gretel always said tarragon mustard was one of the things she missed most when she first arrived in England. Not the Torten. Not the Schnitzel. The mustard. English mustard was too hot and too blunt. French mustard was smoother but wrong. Austrian Estragonsenf sits in its own place: the anise warmth of tarragon softening the bite of the seeds, a touch of honey holding everything together, white wine vinegar keeping it sharp and clean. There is nothing else quite like it, and once you know the taste you'll notice its absence on every other mustard shelf in the world.

Making your own takes almost no effort, just patience. You soak the seeds overnight in vinegar and wine, blend them the next day, fold in fresh tarragon and a little honey, then let the jar sit in the fridge for a few days while everything gets acquainted. The result is sharper and more alive than anything from a tube. Spoon it onto a Brettljause board next to cold cuts, pickled vegetables, and dark bread. Put it beside a plate of Frankfurters. Stir it into a vinaigrette for warm potato salad. This is the mustard Austria runs on, and now your kitchen can too.