I’ll leave it to others to delve into how a substance that bees process in their stomachs and regurgitate has become such a common term of endearment, with bunnies going on honeymoons to produce little Honey Boos Boos and later are given the honey task. -make lists. Suffice it to say: we are a species that wants sugar in our bowl, in whatever form we can get it.
Get the recipe: Heart of Hive Cocktail
But I’m just here for the drinks. And since Valentine’s Day was the patron saint of lovers and beekeepers, this month seemed like the right time to dive into honey with yours truly. (By the way, Valentine’s Day is also the patron saint of fainting spells and epilepsy, but those are a bit difficult to add to a drink, although I’m sure a mustachioed hipster behind an unmarked village gate at the beginning of the month is probably I tried.)
Mead, the honey wine now drunk from ironic drinking horns and paired with anachronistic vape pens at countless Renaissance fairs, was made and drunk thousands of years BC. It was enjoyed in ancient Greece, associated with ambrosia consumed by the gods, and in De Re Coquinaria, a collection of Roman recipes dating from the 5th century or earlier, a drink described as a refreshment for travelers involves mixing honey spicy pepper with wine. Honey has antimicrobial properties (specifically an enzyme that breaks down into hydrogen peroxide), which may partly explain why it has been used so much in traditional medicine over the centuries and why it has remained one of the ingredients the most consistent in the recipes of the so-called. hot toddy that overcomes the cold.
Drinkers in the modern era have retained their appreciation for honey as a flavoring, although they are less likely to pour it on combat wounds. At the start of the 20th century, Bee’s Knees (gin, honey, lemon) and Brown Derby (bourbon, grapefruit, honey) made their mark, and the former is still a regular at many bars today. In the tiki world, honey sweetens lime and other citrus in drinks like Navy Grog and Missionary’s Downfall. And in the 21st century, honey has lent its specific funky sweetness to several modern classics, including Gold Rush (bourbon, lemon, honey) and Penicillin (where Sam Ross baroquely took the approach by adding ginger to honey and a twist of smoke via Islay Scotch whisky).
You’ll notice one thing these various drinks have in common: honey and citrus – like those couples who still stare at each other wide-eyed after decades together – seem to have been made for each other.
In cocktails, sweetness is most often achieved with a simple syrup, made from white sugar and water. White sugar adds little to the palate except sweetness, making simple syrup a neutral and extremely versatile ingredient. But honey, with its gorgeous amber hue, brings a bit of funk (from the specific chemical wastes found in the bee’s trunk) and retains the aromas and flavors of the plants those bees were dealing with. These botanical notes can complement citrus in a more complex way. “You complete me,” Citrus said. “Shut up,” said darling. “You had me at hello.'”
Most classic cocktails you can make with honey don’t require anything more exotic than the clover honey you can buy at the supermarket, but other varieties are worth exploring. Compare, for example, the depth and nuttiness of darker buckwheat and chestnut honeys, which pair particularly well with aged spirits. And of course, like simple syrup, you can infuse honey with fruits, herbs and spices.
For cocktail newbies interested in making honey-sweetened drinks, here’s the most important thing to remember: While the TSA considers the refined chestnut honey you bought in Rome a liquid, it’s definitely not the case of your cocktail. Ask anyone (and by anyone, I mean me 20 years ago) who has tried to concoct sexy cocktails by squeezing a measure of honey into a cocktail shaker, adding alcohol, lemon and ice and shaking everything.
What I got was not a nice balanced cocktail, but lots of cold, sour foam foaming around a gummy ball of hardened goo, vaguely resembling the talking mucus ball in the Mucinex commercials. I don’t generally consider myself qualified to offer advice to lovers, but one thing I can say with confidence: you don’t want to add Mr. Mucus to your group.
To gently incorporate honey into your drinks (cold ones, at least, hot toddies are more welcoming!), make it more pleasant by adding water, transforming it into what is usually called honey syrup. honey (or “flowing honey” by Winnie the Pooh cosplayers). I like a 2:1 ratio. If I’m being extremely precise, I’ll measure one cup of honey to half a cup of water in a saucepan and bring them briefly to a bubble, stirring until everything is incorporated and smooth. But honey is gooey enough to make scraping the measuring cup boring, so I often slip up with a simple trick: I buy a standard plastic honey bear, scoop out just enough to empty his ursine noggin , I fill this headspace with hot honey, but not boiling water (aim for around 180 degrees), then shake it until it is combined into a cocktail-friendly syrup that will keep in the refrigerator for weeks.
I wanted to make a new honey cocktail for Valentine’s Day, but I wanted something on the dark side, that felt comfortable in the dark middle of winter. In addition to the honey, I added two other hubba-hubba ingredients, strawberries and chocolate, into the mix. You quickly make a strawberry honey syrup (delicious over vanilla ice cream if you have leftovers you don’t want to use in other drinks) and add chocolate bitters. The sweetness of the drink is balanced by a little acidic touch from the balsamic vinegar. Weird, I know, but don’t hesitate until you’ve tried it: there’s a long history of vinegar being used in drinks, and balsamic goes particularly well with strawberries. The half teaspoon you add here is just enough to bring balance and bring out unexpected flavors.
With all due respect to Shakespeare, I don’t think a rose called a fragrant herb would have the same appeal. Same for a cocktail called Bee Barf, so I gave this one a more palatable name. Enjoy the Heart of the Hive in gentle company, and if you do, don’t thank me, thank a bee.
Get the recipe: Heart of Hive Cocktail
