Honey
From intoxicating sunshine to spectacular sunsets, gold is the color of the west. Everything from the social lifestyle to your own instincts colludes to get you outside. Los Angeles is known for its agreeable weather, and here’s to architects who design with balcony, patio and yard in mind. Our street on the Hollywood/West Hollywood border is a quiet residential one between the neon vulgarity of the Sunset Strip in one direction and Route 66, in its stretch as Santa Monica Boulevard, in the other. The vehicular traffic we get is primarily that of our own residents, with the occasional hot rodder skirting the congestion on nearby LaBrea. Our patio fronts the street. I often sit there, laptop and wine glass at hand, watching not just vehicular but foot traffic go by.
The front yard is small and lush, with two well-kept patches of grass guarded by hedges cut in the low curve that is common to non-privacy hedges out here. Private is one thing our little yard isn’t, as everyone from seniors strolling to a chess game in the nearby park to doggie daddies taking their charges out of a walk stop wave hello or stop to chat. But don’t worry, we are safe. A California laurel spreads protective arms across the expanse of the yard, while a low rock wall affords just the right amount of privacy, as well as delineating a small garden space where grows a profusion of bromeliads, alliums, a diminutive palm, and a tangerine sapling.
With so much green in so little space, in a design replicated throughout this gem of a neighborhood, it’s no wonder that we have the pleasure of visits from neighbors other than human. I have written before about the ravens that populate Los Angeles; two such nest in the laurel. They are watchful and protective, vocalizing their alarm when unfamiliar faces cross the boundary from sidewalk to grass. But then, sometimes I am the interloper: one evening as I stepped to the patio for a breath of midnight air, I was greeted by the sight of an opossum calmly feeding on a few fallen dates. It didn’t feel the need to interrupt its meal, so I quietly closed the door. On golden afternoons, an iridescent black hummingbird lunches on nectar from the alliums. I know it is the same bird as hummingbirds are very territorial and mark feeding sites that they consider to be their domain.
That domain doesn’t matter much to the most industrious of all of our neighbors: the insects that dart among the blossoms. We are not close enough to a standing water source to attract my beloved dragonflies, but butterflies visit from their habitat in the nearby park, while tiny white moths, as delicate as lace, congregate along their own home right here. As golden afternoons shift towards watercolor sunsets, I step outdoors to take in the show of fireflies, glowing amber as dusk settles. It is impossible not to recall my grandmother’s homestead at the same time of day, as a tribunal of prairie women in print dresses passed lemonade and chitchat while watching the kids. It was impossible not to get a dusting of Oklahoma red clay as I scrambled after the bugs, but my mason jar invariably contained more promise than actual prey.
No insect is more industrious than bees. Tiny honeybees in requisite striped jackets buzz among the citrus blossoms and the clover, doing their vital work of pollination. As it is in every agricultural area, beekeeping is an important part of life in California. Unfortunately, honey bees are in danger. Click here to learn about the dangerous and heartbreaking phenomenon of colony collapse disorder, including a list of resources for you to learn more and take action.
When bees visit flowers, they are doing so to extract nectar. This helps the plant by allowing it to reproduce, and helps the bees, because that nectar, deposited into the hive, becomes the food that feeds the colony. Proving once and for all that animals display discretion, the food that bees feed from is honey. When it is responsibly harvested by skilled beekeepers who take care with the hive and its citizens, including utmost respect for the hive’s food source, honey is a special treat for humans. Golden May at Urban Home Blog continues with the golden hue of honey, in appreciation for the creatures that make it.
Springtime finds the kitchen as busy as that hive, as ovens disgorge freshly baked loaves of bread from sourdough to Greek Easter bread. Drizzle your sourdough toast with honey to appreciate honey in its truest form. Whether or not you celebrate Easter, it is the traditional time for a big pan of honey-drenched baklava. If your baking time or audience doesn’t include these big ticket treats, bake a simple loaf of date-nut bread, to serve with the traditional smear of honeyed cream cheese. Honey’s sweetness doesn’t just suit desserts. Try a sweet drizzle on a dollop of goat cheese dip, or serve it with the cheese course -- perhaps, as the steakhouse does, alongside pears and Stilton. Some stir honey into their mustard before slathering it on their sandwich. And yes, you can drink honey. Most do so in tea, but honey is the fundamental ingredient in mead. The flavor of honey is often a feature in the flavor profile of toasty white wines such as Chardonnay; try Mark West’s honey layered Chardonnay Central Coast 2010. And remember that honey isn’t just an ingredient; it is a color. When we redecorated our New York City urban home, honey and amber were dominant tones. Those tones traveled to our west coast home, where honey is a keystone of the brown and blue palette.
If you keep your own bees, now is the time to jar honey for the bee and beekeeping competition at this fall’s county fair, as entry deadline for the domestic arts pavilion is often in June. Those of us who don’t keep bees must obtain our honey from a trusted source. The best honey is available at farm stands, farmers markets and organic stores. If you choose, you can obtain raw honey, but in our urban homes, we use strained ultrasonicated honey. Ultransonication is a process that use sound waves to destroy fungi spores that naturally occur in honey. These spores are one reason honey should never be fed to infants, toddlers or anyone with a weakened immune system. Out of respect for the bees, we do not use comb honey.
Aside from its other wonders, honey doesn’t spoil, so there is no need to pasteurize or refrigerate it. Doing the latter risks crystallization. Strained pure honey requires only to be stored in a glass container with a tight-fitting lid in a dry cupboard – a canning jar is perfect. Remember that honey’s flavors will reflect its floral source. That is why you see clover, orange blossom, lavender, etc. on the label. Some plants that bees pollinate are harmful to humans. Honey for food consumption should never come from such plants; oleander and mountain laurel are two such. If the source of the honey isn’t labeled or if you remain uncertain, ask.
Finally, as is maple syrup, honey is graded. The three grades of honey are A, B, and C, with A being the best. The fourth designation, substandard, speaks for itself. However, the USDA does not require grading as a condition of sale, so, fitting for this gem of a substance, the best way to identify the quality of honey is by color and clarity. A grade honey should be thick and golden, with a viscous quality and no air bubbles or noticeable impurities visible in the suspension. B grade honey is thinner than A, with a darker amber or lighter yellow color and some air bubbles or noticeable impurities in the suspension. C grade honey is thin, light brown or vivid yellow in color, and air bubbles, impurities or both are noticeable in the suspension.
The front yard is small and lush, with two well-kept patches of grass guarded by hedges cut in the low curve that is common to non-privacy hedges out here. Private is one thing our little yard isn’t, as everyone from seniors strolling to a chess game in the nearby park to doggie daddies taking their charges out of a walk stop wave hello or stop to chat. But don’t worry, we are safe. A California laurel spreads protective arms across the expanse of the yard, while a low rock wall affords just the right amount of privacy, as well as delineating a small garden space where grows a profusion of bromeliads, alliums, a diminutive palm, and a tangerine sapling.
With so much green in so little space, in a design replicated throughout this gem of a neighborhood, it’s no wonder that we have the pleasure of visits from neighbors other than human. I have written before about the ravens that populate Los Angeles; two such nest in the laurel. They are watchful and protective, vocalizing their alarm when unfamiliar faces cross the boundary from sidewalk to grass. But then, sometimes I am the interloper: one evening as I stepped to the patio for a breath of midnight air, I was greeted by the sight of an opossum calmly feeding on a few fallen dates. It didn’t feel the need to interrupt its meal, so I quietly closed the door. On golden afternoons, an iridescent black hummingbird lunches on nectar from the alliums. I know it is the same bird as hummingbirds are very territorial and mark feeding sites that they consider to be their domain.
That domain doesn’t matter much to the most industrious of all of our neighbors: the insects that dart among the blossoms. We are not close enough to a standing water source to attract my beloved dragonflies, but butterflies visit from their habitat in the nearby park, while tiny white moths, as delicate as lace, congregate along their own home right here. As golden afternoons shift towards watercolor sunsets, I step outdoors to take in the show of fireflies, glowing amber as dusk settles. It is impossible not to recall my grandmother’s homestead at the same time of day, as a tribunal of prairie women in print dresses passed lemonade and chitchat while watching the kids. It was impossible not to get a dusting of Oklahoma red clay as I scrambled after the bugs, but my mason jar invariably contained more promise than actual prey.
No insect is more industrious than bees. Tiny honeybees in requisite striped jackets buzz among the citrus blossoms and the clover, doing their vital work of pollination. As it is in every agricultural area, beekeeping is an important part of life in California. Unfortunately, honey bees are in danger. Click here to learn about the dangerous and heartbreaking phenomenon of colony collapse disorder, including a list of resources for you to learn more and take action.
When bees visit flowers, they are doing so to extract nectar. This helps the plant by allowing it to reproduce, and helps the bees, because that nectar, deposited into the hive, becomes the food that feeds the colony. Proving once and for all that animals display discretion, the food that bees feed from is honey. When it is responsibly harvested by skilled beekeepers who take care with the hive and its citizens, including utmost respect for the hive’s food source, honey is a special treat for humans. Golden May at Urban Home Blog continues with the golden hue of honey, in appreciation for the creatures that make it.
Springtime finds the kitchen as busy as that hive, as ovens disgorge freshly baked loaves of bread from sourdough to Greek Easter bread. Drizzle your sourdough toast with honey to appreciate honey in its truest form. Whether or not you celebrate Easter, it is the traditional time for a big pan of honey-drenched baklava. If your baking time or audience doesn’t include these big ticket treats, bake a simple loaf of date-nut bread, to serve with the traditional smear of honeyed cream cheese. Honey’s sweetness doesn’t just suit desserts. Try a sweet drizzle on a dollop of goat cheese dip, or serve it with the cheese course -- perhaps, as the steakhouse does, alongside pears and Stilton. Some stir honey into their mustard before slathering it on their sandwich. And yes, you can drink honey. Most do so in tea, but honey is the fundamental ingredient in mead. The flavor of honey is often a feature in the flavor profile of toasty white wines such as Chardonnay; try Mark West’s honey layered Chardonnay Central Coast 2010. And remember that honey isn’t just an ingredient; it is a color. When we redecorated our New York City urban home, honey and amber were dominant tones. Those tones traveled to our west coast home, where honey is a keystone of the brown and blue palette.
If you keep your own bees, now is the time to jar honey for the bee and beekeeping competition at this fall’s county fair, as entry deadline for the domestic arts pavilion is often in June. Those of us who don’t keep bees must obtain our honey from a trusted source. The best honey is available at farm stands, farmers markets and organic stores. If you choose, you can obtain raw honey, but in our urban homes, we use strained ultrasonicated honey. Ultransonication is a process that use sound waves to destroy fungi spores that naturally occur in honey. These spores are one reason honey should never be fed to infants, toddlers or anyone with a weakened immune system. Out of respect for the bees, we do not use comb honey.
Aside from its other wonders, honey doesn’t spoil, so there is no need to pasteurize or refrigerate it. Doing the latter risks crystallization. Strained pure honey requires only to be stored in a glass container with a tight-fitting lid in a dry cupboard – a canning jar is perfect. Remember that honey’s flavors will reflect its floral source. That is why you see clover, orange blossom, lavender, etc. on the label. Some plants that bees pollinate are harmful to humans. Honey for food consumption should never come from such plants; oleander and mountain laurel are two such. If the source of the honey isn’t labeled or if you remain uncertain, ask.
Finally, as is maple syrup, honey is graded. The three grades of honey are A, B, and C, with A being the best. The fourth designation, substandard, speaks for itself. However, the USDA does not require grading as a condition of sale, so, fitting for this gem of a substance, the best way to identify the quality of honey is by color and clarity. A grade honey should be thick and golden, with a viscous quality and no air bubbles or noticeable impurities visible in the suspension. B grade honey is thinner than A, with a darker amber or lighter yellow color and some air bubbles or noticeable impurities in the suspension. C grade honey is thin, light brown or vivid yellow in color, and air bubbles, impurities or both are noticeable in the suspension.
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