Slide on over here, honey...

Honey doesn't usually elicit a second thought, for most, until you run up against the stray jar of amber at a farmer's market or flea market. It, like the jars of artisan molasses, jellies, and jams that dot the pantries of the South, are more frequently "guilt" purchases...and I was just as guilty as the next guy. I would spy a jar, dream of the cookies, muffins, etc. that I could make finer and more legitimate with a quality honey, only to let the jar sit and ultimately crystallize in the pantry, barely used.

But about ten years ago I was gifted a beautiful, tall, and willowy bottle of Tupelo honey, which, it turns out, folks, has nothing to do whatsoever with the hometown of Elvis, and everything to do with the Tupelo gum tree, indigenous to the mid panhandle of Florida. I took that bottle home, determined that because it was oddly enough shaped that I would make myself use it. There was no way it would settle unnoticed into a seat in the back of the class to be overlooked and forgotten.

My first taste—over homemade biscuits and spicy sausage—was rapture. The layers of floral and earthy flavors were unlike anything I had ever imagined and completely different from any artisan honey I had ever tried. I could taste the very essence of the gum tree in each bite. I blew through the bottle and began the search for another.

As it happens, there are a number of good folks in Florida who collect and jar Tupelo honey and it doesn't cost an arm and a leg to get it. The Laniers, for example, have been in the business for over a hundred years and are happy to ship you whatever you like. It can change the way you view things sweet and it'll not go uneaten. Take it from me...I just received a box with four gallons.

Also, check out Dan Huntley's piece on tupelo honey from Garden & Gun's April/May 2009 issue.