There’s a museum just for mustard in Middleton
But for the Box Red Sox’s 1986 World Series loss to the New York Mets, the National Mustard Museum might never have come to be.
“The night after that painful defeat — in the seventh game, no less — I couldn’t sleep,” said Barry Levenson, who goes by the title of curator and chief mustard officer at the museum in Middleton.
“I was bummed, so I went out and aimlessly wandered the aisles of the Woodman’s grocery story on Madison’s east side. I was pushing an empty cart, crying and vowing to be done with baseball and the seemingly A visitor to the National Mustard Museum in Middleton checks out some of the 6,200 mustard-related items on display.
cursed Red Sox.”
It was then and there,
at 2:30 a.m. on Oct. 28, 1986, that he remembers
turning down the condiment aisle and walking A Wisconsin mustard license plate is on display at the National Mustard Museum in Middleton. past rows of ketchup (which he despises), mayonnaise and pickles.
“I decided I need a hobby,” said Levenson, who bears a passing resemblance to Groucho Marx, minus the mus- tache, and has the wit to match. “When I came to the mustards, a voice (which predated the movie “Field of Dreams” by several years) whispered to me: ‘If you collect them, they will come.’
“I didn’t know what that meant then, but I bought 15 jars of Plochman’s Stoneground Mustard, which has a gritty texture and is made in Illinois,” he told me during a recent interview.
During our chat he wore an aging “Poupon U” T-shirt. He calls the fictitious school “America’s Mustard College” and boasts that it is both unaccredited and unashamed.
One thing led to another and soon Levenson, then an assistant attorney general in the Wisconsin Department of Justice who was arguing cases before the Wisconsin Supreme Court, had collected around 100 jars.
Six months after he discovered that first jar of Plochman’s, Levenson got another sign.
This saucy epiphany occurred while he was on his way to the U.S. Supreme Court in Washington, D.C., to argue a case.
“I saw a small jar of unopened mustard, Dickenson’s Stone Ground, on a used room tray in the hallway of the Hyatt where I was staying,” he said. “I didn’t recognize the brand. I wanted it, but a little voice asked if it would be theft if I grabbed it? So, like any lawyer would do, I took it. To this day, I think that lucky jar of mustard is one of the reasons why I won my case. And I still have it.”
Though Levenson enjoyed practicing law, handling cases that dealt with murdered children left him depressed and looking for an avocation he might enjoy. Still, it wasn’t until Wisconsin Supreme Court Justice Shirley Abrahamson visited his home in Mount Horeb, saw his collection and asked, “What is this, the Mount Horeb Mustard Museum?” that the (mustard) seed was planted.
Four years later, in 1991, he quit his job and opened the first mustard museum in Mount Horeb. His mother back home in Worcester, Mass., shrieked, “You did what? From this you can make a living?”
Levenson had found his calling. In the following years, he met his wife at a Milwaukee tasting event for his favorite condiment, created a board game called “Please Pass the Mustard,” wrote a mustard-related play and penned a children’s book.
He’s now preparing to teach a seminar at the University of WisconsinMadison Law School on food regulations that will, of course, include some mustard snippets and maybe a few samples.
And who could forget the appearance with his spouse on an Oprah
Winfrey show in 1999, when he wowed the famous television hostess with some walnut flavored mustard? It didn’t go so well with David Letterman, who gagged on the hot mustard he insisted on trying, and then cut the segment from his show.
Levenson kept his museum in Mount Horeb until 1999, when he moved it to a renovated brick building in downtown Middleton at the bidding of the local Chamber of Commerce. He now has nearly 6,200 jars of mustard, tins, pots and related paraphernalia in his collection.
Levenson, about to turn a spry 70, sold the gift shop portion of the museum a few years back. But he still shows up at the quirky museum on a regular basis, “because it’s so darn much fun.”
During my visit, he greeted a visitor from Cologne, Germany, warmly and they discussed their favorite European mustards. He’ll also tell you — even if you don’t ask — that Shakespeare mentioned mustard four times in his plays. And that the Bible includes passages that touch on mustard seeds.
Levenson also serves up samples at the tasting bar. He’s happy to advise any of the 35,000 visitors from around the globe who stop in each year which mustards pair best with certain foods, wines and beers. He’s tasted tens of thousands of mustards and is fond of the Slimm & Nunne variety made for the museum gift shop that’s “sweet and nicely hot.”
His absolute favorites are the classic Dijon mustards, which he describes as sharp, strong and grainy with a bit of a bite. That seems fitting, he said, because Dijon, France, is where the first mustards (as we know them today) were made in the 1300s.
As for that plan to abandon the Boston Red Sox? It never happened. Though the team frustrated him for decades as a younger man, the squad has done well in recent times.
“It’s now four World Series titles in the past 15 years, including this season,” he said. “But we won’t get arrogant, not like our archrival, the Yankees, and expect to win every year.”
Losing builds character, or so they say. If the Red Sox hadn’t blown the 1986 Series, Dane County would never have gotten what has to be its most unusual museum.
More information: The museum and gift shop are open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily (closed on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Day and Easter Sunday). Admission is free, but donations are appreciated.
See mustardmuseum.com
(800) 438-6878.
Getting there: The National Mustard Museum, 7447 Hubbard Ave., is about 90 miles west of Milwaukee via I-94, Highway 12 and University Avenue.
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