Mustard
I went to the Mustard Festival this evening, a local jazz and blues
festival occurring every year over Labour Day weekend. At one point,
after trying to enjoy a blues band with less soul than a room full of
Shakers, this shot of hot liquid hit my ear. I know there's such an
animal as acid rain, but that was going a bit beyond. Turns out the man
sitting behind me was eating an ear of corn, and his biting into a
niblet included projectile spray.
Hamilton, so I learned, is the world's largest miller of mustard seed.
Who knew?