My grandfather is responsible for my love of mustard. As a young boy he used to measure my manliness by testing my tolerance to his homemade pub mustard. He had it with everything – but the thing that sticks in my mind are his ham and mustard sandwiches made with door stops of soft white bread. This is a tribute to him as I reckon it would have brought a small tear even to his eye. There is a bit of heat from the finely ground yellow mustard but the real punch comes afterwards from the piquant Tasmanian Pepperberries that flavour it.