Like Bees to Honey

A few weeks ago my sister-in-law sent me an email asking what brand of honey we buy. "Your brother keeps talking about the honey he had when we visited you guys." This came as no surprise. I don't buy honey at the grocery store anymore. Ever since visiting a beekeeper and getting a taste of warm honey that was in the hive literally 30 minutes prior to my visit, I've found that store-bought honey has almost no flavor. Last week a food safety report claimed that the pollen frequently is filtered out of products that are labeled as "honey" and sold in conventional stores. The study found no pollen in 75 to 100% of the samples tested from various supermarket and convenience store chains.

Removing pollen from honey is a safety concern (without the pollen, there is no way to trace the source of the "honey"), but I'm convinced that this practice also affects the taste. I buy raw, unfiltered honey from local hives, and I can practically taste the flower blossoms in every spoonful. This stuff could inspire poetry.

Last night as the Wrangler poured honey on his peanut butter sandwich (I do feed the man, but he likes to snack on peanut butter sandwiches), he looked from the jar of honey to the jars of homemade beeswax candles on the counter and declared his love for bees. "I will be in charge of the hive, the honey, and the candles, if you'd like," he announced. I like bees and beeswax, but I'm not one to hoard farm chores.

"Bee my guest."