Middleton, Wisconsin: Mustard Capitol

The National Mustard Museum. Middleton, Wisconsin

Just back from Madison, Wisc., and emerging from a mustard-induced haze.

Just when I thought I may be overdoing it with knish costume, I made a pilgrimage to the National Mustard Headquarters in Middleton, Wisc.
Barry Levenson’s yellow emporium recently migrated from the hamlet of Mt. Horeb, Wisc. to Middleton, right next to Madison and 20 miles from the original Dijon outpost in the Midwest. To commemorate the exile, Levenson enlisted the track teams — and mascots, a cardinal and a Viking — of both schools to transport “the Last Mustard” on foot, escorted by a yellow school bus.

What’s the connection to knishes? Well, mustard and knishes are mutually dependent. What’s a mustard without a vehicle? And what’s a knish without some spice?

Levenson has created an emporium, complete with an educational branch, Poupon U. (I kid you not) and has a cousin who lives three blocks from me in Brooklyn. Just another example of ingathering.

Mustard Pirate after the relay.

Most people at the Mustard Museum had no clue what a knish was. Levenson’s cousin suggested I head to Hillel, the Jewish organization on campus, for more name and sight recognition. But it’s good to remember what it’s like to be an outsider. Even the bedazzled Dutchess of Mustard could not identify her sister knish, but did appreciate my yellow nail polish and remembered tasting a potato pocket at a synagogue sponsored tasting day in Madison.

It’s not uncommon to use food to introduce culture, but what are we transmitting?

What can we hand over along with recipes and foods?

What are we really trying to share?

Thoughts — and more questions — welcomed.