Buckwheat Honey

I stopped by the local farm here to buy produce. One of the highlights for me is fresh cilantro. If you don’t use the whole stock, they pick it so the tubers are still attached. Giant, offwhite hairless almost-potato bulbs hang down under each stalk. Good thing it’s not sold by weight anyway. The dirt still clings to the produce and the loamy earth grits your teeth. Homemade salsa is good stuff, minus the sand.

My wife is not nearly as in love with the flavor as I am. She turns her nose up at onions, too. What is salsa without onions or cilantro? Well, I’ve had better – squeezed from a Heinz bottle.

On the shelf, sitting at me quietly below the “on sale” tag is a bottle of honey. Not just any honey, but buckwheat honey.

I felt the bee guy whispering in my ear and a stirring in my loins. That stirring was me going for my wallet.

I bought a small jar of it, taking Hexabeesial’s advice that not everyone likes the flavor. The honey itself is, well, honey consistency but it’s really dark. Not quite like molasses, it still passes light, but definitely a noticeable shade darker than your typical bee puke.

The flavor is complex. It’s not even obvious that the flavor is so many layered until you start eating the honey with other foods. Peanut butter reveals mint notes. Molasses imparts a grainy flavor. Eating it with pancakes has a kind of rummy taste, like extremely dark maple syrup but with more spice. However, tasting the honey after trying a coke results in a flavor exactly like dark malt extract used in brewing. It is absolutely uncanny.

Buckwheat honey is now a staple in my pantry.