Saturday's post.
I own way too much honey, but I bet most of you don't own enough.
American honey tends to be dull. Our three main types, clover, acacia, and orange blossom are all averagely sweet and averagely colored. Some stores have buckwheat honey, which is a nice dark shade, but really has no more flavor than the clover, acacia, or orange blossom.
There are so many other types. My mother has waxed eloquent over the melon honey she used to eat as a child. My grandfather worked for one of the largest melon growing concerns in California. He'd call the beekeepers when it looked like the vines were due to bloom. For the next couple of weeks, the bees would be transported from field to field pollinating the melons. Just before he left, the beekeeper would pull out the honey and give grandfather a jar or two. Mom says the honeydew was her favorite, but the scent of cantaloupe honey was nearly overwhelming.
I've never been lucky enough to find melon honeys. If anyone on my friends list finds it, please let me know where I can get it.
However, on a trip to Italy with Lucy a couple of years back, the local honey growers in Bergamo were holding court in front of the town hall. They had five varieties available. The Rhododendren honey had a dusty, dry flavor. I still regret not getting a jar. The wildflower honey was good, but had the same type of standard sweetness as supermarket honeys. The two that stood out to me, stood out enough to throw out some clothes to make room for it in our luggage home, were the Oak and Pine honey and the chestnut honey.
Chestnut honey is dark and has a slightly bitter aftertaste. It's a winter flavor and, in Italy, it's usually paired with an aged, hard cheese like parmesan as a snack or after dinner course. The best description I can give is that it's a wholly adult treat.
The Oak and Pine honey was darker still, but it had no bitter note. The flavor was rich and I could imagine the little pine nut tarts I've occasionally seen having their taste reinforced with the fresh air and pine aroma of the honey.
Honeys don't have to be imported and expensive. Marshmallow honey is sweeter than anything else I've tasted (I've never tried Tupelo honey which is reputed to be the sweetest). Heather honey is elegant; I wish I could be more descriptive.
One other note: Just as there are different flavors of honey there are different textures. Cream honey spreads better than regular honey. It's my favorite for bread and honey because I can use less. It saves calories that way, but the sweetness is just as intense. Comb honey is honey with the comb in it. It is different, and some people, like my grandfather, adore it.
Honey is not a vegan food. Until the eighteenth century, most Western European beekeepers killed the entire hive to harvest the honey. The Greeks worked out a better way much earlier, but it didn't catch on. Queen excluders and the hive techniques developed over the past three hundred years have made it less damaging to the bees, but some may die in the process. Modern honey usually meets vegetarian standards.
I own way too much honey, but I bet most of you don't own enough.
American honey tends to be dull. Our three main types, clover, acacia, and orange blossom are all averagely sweet and averagely colored. Some stores have buckwheat honey, which is a nice dark shade, but really has no more flavor than the clover, acacia, or orange blossom.
There are so many other types. My mother has waxed eloquent over the melon honey she used to eat as a child. My grandfather worked for one of the largest melon growing concerns in California. He'd call the beekeepers when it looked like the vines were due to bloom. For the next couple of weeks, the bees would be transported from field to field pollinating the melons. Just before he left, the beekeeper would pull out the honey and give grandfather a jar or two. Mom says the honeydew was her favorite, but the scent of cantaloupe honey was nearly overwhelming.
I've never been lucky enough to find melon honeys. If anyone on my friends list finds it, please let me know where I can get it.
However, on a trip to Italy with Lucy a couple of years back, the local honey growers in Bergamo were holding court in front of the town hall. They had five varieties available. The Rhododendren honey had a dusty, dry flavor. I still regret not getting a jar. The wildflower honey was good, but had the same type of standard sweetness as supermarket honeys. The two that stood out to me, stood out enough to throw out some clothes to make room for it in our luggage home, were the Oak and Pine honey and the chestnut honey.
Chestnut honey is dark and has a slightly bitter aftertaste. It's a winter flavor and, in Italy, it's usually paired with an aged, hard cheese like parmesan as a snack or after dinner course. The best description I can give is that it's a wholly adult treat.
The Oak and Pine honey was darker still, but it had no bitter note. The flavor was rich and I could imagine the little pine nut tarts I've occasionally seen having their taste reinforced with the fresh air and pine aroma of the honey.
Honeys don't have to be imported and expensive. Marshmallow honey is sweeter than anything else I've tasted (I've never tried Tupelo honey which is reputed to be the sweetest). Heather honey is elegant; I wish I could be more descriptive.
One other note: Just as there are different flavors of honey there are different textures. Cream honey spreads better than regular honey. It's my favorite for bread and honey because I can use less. It saves calories that way, but the sweetness is just as intense. Comb honey is honey with the comb in it. It is different, and some people, like my grandfather, adore it.
Honey is not a vegan food. Until the eighteenth century, most Western European beekeepers killed the entire hive to harvest the honey. The Greeks worked out a better way much earlier, but it didn't catch on. Queen excluders and the hive techniques developed over the past three hundred years have made it less damaging to the bees, but some may die in the process. Modern honey usually meets vegetarian standards.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-22 02:02 pm (UTC)My only limitation is which paycheck, so I need things to be mid-month or later. If you're booked in August, we can talk about September.
Cool!
I'll see if I can collect my thoughts on maple syrups for a later post.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-23 01:53 am (UTC)We'll work out a weekend. (I hope to be visiting Canada sometime in September.)