Honey Mustard Sauce and Excuses

I'm afraid that both parts of this post will be boring. The more boring part: excuses:

For not posting often enough:
I'm preparing to move across the country and have been extremely busy.

For not having photos:
I'm lazy, plus see the note above.

For not having my homework ready to hand in:
I did it, I must have left it on the kitchen table.

The less boring part: my experiment with making a honey mustard sauce:
I suppose the easy thing to do would have been to find a recipe in a cookbook, but after shopping all day Saturday (I hate shopping, except for shoe shopping or when I have a specific item that I NEED to buy. The latter has a maximum time limit of 2 hours to ensure that I don't lose all brain function) and then moving my boxes out of the attic for a good part of Sunday, I didn't even think to look in a cookbook. I just took the pork tenderloin and butterflied it. I dry roasted some yellow mustard seed (about 1 tbsp) in a small cast iron pan, allowed it to cool, and crushed in plastic wrap with a meat mallet. I fried a large white onion in a pan, added the crushed mustard, then added the tenderloin to brown. I figured it was cooking too quickly, so I put two cups of chicken broth and a quarter cup of honey in the pan. It was at this point that I realized that I was near ruining pork tenderloin.

Luckily, mom was there to save the meal. She took the pork out and put it in a dry cast iron pan to brown (and get rid of that porky smell). Then she instructed me to start the sauce separately because the pork had left nasty little balls in the sauce (gross). This time I started with 1/3 cup of prepared Dijon mustard (the other stuff hadn't even smelled like anything), slowly added 2 cups of chicken broth and then whisked in 1/4 c honey. I think I added salt and pepper as well. When it had boiled a bit, mom deglazed the browning pan with a bit of water and added it to the sauce. Then I added a bit of cornstarch/water mixture until it was thick enough to glaze. We put the pork in the sauce and allowed it to sit, covered, but without heat until we were finished preparing the accompanying dishes (corn and mashed potatoes).

Perhaps it was my mood that made me not love this dish, but my dad seemed to really like it. I'll have to try again, perhaps with tenderloin that is grilled (tenderloin tastes best grilled) and using the sauce as an accompaniment rather than the sauce in which it cooks.