Honeybee_ Lessons from an Accidental Beekeeper - C. Marina Marchese [63]
Next, I really wanted to taste the corbezzolo, which turned out to be honey from the Mediterranean arbutus plant, similar to our strawberry bush. It was heavy in flavor, bursting with fresh berries and quite perfumy and bitter on my tongue. I sensed sweet berry notes in the aftertaste. It would have been delicious, I thought, drizzled over some chocolate gelato. The next selection was the tangy and citrusy lemon honey. It completely lived up to all my expectations. Custardlike and creamy, lemon honey could easily be drizzled over fresh berries in a graham cracker crust and garnished with a sprig of mint. Native to southern Italy, this tart honey was as refreshing as the fruit itself. Next, I was introduced to a crystallized honey romarino or rosemary. I slathered a spoonful of this luscious creamed honey onto my tongue and could feel the finely granulated texture melting with refreshing sweetness similar to fondant on a wedding cake. Herby and minty, this honey would complement a cup of iced tea. What was there not to love? Francesco’s favorite was the eucalyptus honey. He said it was very effective at soothing his children’s coughs. Eucalyptus grows wild along the Mediterranean, so there is no shortage of eucalyptus nectar. I could smell the highly aromatic, menthol-like scent before I even dipped my spoon into the jar. Chestnut honey, the darkest of all the honeys, was an Italian favorite and kitchen staple. Its earthy, nutty, somewhat caramelized flavor was definitely an acquired taste. I could imagine this honey being used in a marinade or drizzled over stinky blue cheese.
The vast range of honeys harvested by this beekeeping duo was impressive. Their appreciation of honey was as deep-rooted as their respect for fine wine. I was treated to a walk through their apiary and did not leave without remembering to purchase half a dozen jars of Amalfi honey.
Who would think honey would carry the same culinary prestige as wine and olive oil? But in Italy, honey is so highly respected that it is sold alongside both these culinary favorites in enotece or wine shops. The medieval commune of Montalcino is known as la citta del miele, or the city of honey. Here, beekeepers harvest some fifty varietals of honey including acacia, chestnut, eucalyptus, wildflower, cherry, thyme, and lemon. They are as proud of their honey as they are of their renowned Brunello wine.
TASTING AND EVALUATING WINE AND HONEY
What began as a simple garden hobby to divert my attention from the stresses of everyday work soon turned into a culinary journey. I always remember the quote by Joseph Campbell: “If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living.”
My bliss was pure honey, the sweetness of a flower blossom that had been kissed by a honeybee. The more I traveled, the more I collected and researched samples of rare and exquisite honey from around the globe, each with its different nectar source, flavor, aroma, color, provenance, and seasonal and tasting notes. Friends brought me honey from their trips abroad, and I even found myself asking strangers from faraway places, whom I’d just met, to send me unusual honeys from their native lands. Each specimen opened a new world of the cultural, geographic, historic, and culinary delights of a particular region.
Not long after my trip to the Amalfi coast, I landed a small design project with an Italian wine importing company. I had the luxury of being trained by a well-known sommelier