When my son was a little over a year old, we felt spontaneous one Thursday night and decided to drive to Los Angeles sausage and beer spot Wurstküche for dinner. It’s relatively family-friendly as far as bars go, with an outdoor patio, a few seating enclaves, and high-chairs stacked in the corner. When we arrived just after 5 p.m., we weren’t the only ones with the same idea—the only patrons dotting the dining room had strollers in tow.

After ordering our sausages we headed to a table where our son proceeded to tell us he didn’t want to sit in a high chair. Or on one of our laps. We kept him entertained with Goldfish crackers and raisins until our meal arrived, but we ate in a hurry and even left a few french fries in their basket before rushing back to the car, wondering when we’d ever be able to calmly enjoy a restaurant again. (I’m happy to report we can!) We may not have finished our dinner that night, but I arrived home with a craving to make my own mustard so we could recreate the meal anytime.

The recipe isn’t elaborate—tasty sausages, sweet, grilled red onions and peppers nestled into buttery buns, plus a squirt of mustard. But the mustard matters, and a homemade batch will change everything. It’s worth noting, however, this recipe will not win any beauty contests. The mustard falls square into the beige color palette, although a combination of yellow and brown mustard seeds will add a bit more dimension, if that’s important to you. It’s also strong. I made it two ways: first with cold water, which was shockingly harsh, and then with warm water, which is recommended for a softer flavor. It’s still bold with a kick that sneaks up on you, but a swirl of honey tones it down to just the right heat level. It’s just right for sausages, spreading on tartines with cheddar and apples, or mixing with mayo for a sandwich spread.