Sunday, May 22, 2011

Nectar, nectar- Read all about it!

Childhood springtimes in Charlotte were spent riding bikes until dark, watching nests of robins hatch out in the camellia beside the house, playing in the overgrown run-off ditch which we called "the creek" (and which to this day still holds its place as one of the wildest, most mysterious and exciting places of nature in my psyche), and eating honeysuckle nectar on the edge of the yard. My sister and I and whoever else might be over would stand at the fenceline of the yard and pick one flower at a time, then simultaneously cut the bottom tip of the flower tube off with a finger nail and grab the stringy thing inside, pulling it down through the tube of the flower until a single drop of nectar would emerge from the opening. That nectar would carefully make its way onto the tip of our tongues, at which time there would be a comparison in size and sweetness of that particular drop to previous drops and inevitably some bragging about who was the most talented at finding the perfect honeysuckle. The yellow flowers give a sweeter nectar. No- the white ones do. No no no- the ones that are changing from white to yellow do... I think we would spend inconceivably long amounts of time standing at the fenceline eating honeysuckle nectar. I would always daydream about collecting a vessel of nectar, one drop at a time, and then drinking it down. That would be the best thing ever possible in life, I would think- and the impossibility of it would make each drop more precious.




Of all the childhood pleasures that are left behind for the practicality of adulthood, eating honeysuckle nectar simply cannot be abandoned. Each year I celebrate springtime with honeysuckle eating- straight-up one drop at a time from vines on someone's fencerow, and in more recent years, I have been enjoying more sophisticated variations of the sweet godlike nectar. Honeysuckle infused milk or cream allows an impossibly sweet floral and perfect base for honeysuckle ice cream, honeysuckle strawberry milkshakes, and honeysuckle chocolate truffles. The flavor that a handful of fresh blossoms imparts on a quart of milk or cream is utterly off.the.chain! Of course, you would only appreciate it if you are someone who likes complete awesomeness.

So it's May in the mountains, and the honeysuckles are in full bloom. You could say that they are pretty much getting their groove on in these parts right about now. The air is pregnant with their perfume, and it is making me go bonkers over nectar. I spent several evenings and early mornings last week working on my honeysuckle truffles for Donna and Heidi's wedding celebration, and today when I got to Jenna's she had the BRILLIANT idea that we make some honeysuckle wine. I was sold. We changed the idea to honeysuckle mead and were off. We spent the middle part of this warm day picking honeysuckle flowers from along my new Starling Gentry Road driveway. After gathering an ample stash of blossoms and collecting a gallon of good cold spring water, we headed back to Jenna's house to get the mead going. The blossoms soaked in the (cold or room temperature) spring water all afternoon and this evening we mixed the batch. Here's the recipe:

Honeysuckle* mead (to make one gallon):
ingredients- honeysuckle blossoms- as many as you can get
good water, preferably without chlorine because the yeast might not like that- one gallon
local honey- one quart
champagne yeast (can be purchased at Asheville Brewing Supply on
Merrimon)

Soak the blossoms in the cold water for 4-12 hours, then strain the water off of the blossoms with a strainer or cheesecloth. Use about a pint of water to heat with the honey to dissolve the honey (making a warm syrup). When the honey is completely dissolved, stir the honey water into the remaining honeysuckle water. You now have the delicious sweet syrupy base for your mead. (Jenna described the taste of this stuff as "righteous.") Warm or cool the base to a temperature that feels just warmer than lukewarm. (If it is bathtub temperature it is too hot.) When it feels just warmer than lukewarm, sprinkle a half packet of champagne yeast over the top of the liquid. Stir if you want, then watch for a few minutes while the yeast comes alive!
Transfer the liquid (with yeast) into a clean one- gallon sized apple juice jug and put a fermentation lock on the top- these can also be purchased at the Asheville Brewing Supply on Merrimon.
Store the jug in a warm place out of the way and watch it bubble and ferment for about the next month. When the bubbling slows down or stops and the liquid clears off, you can bottle it and/or drink it.
Enjoy your homebrew and stick it in The Man's face that you just made your own good damn drinkypoo and didn't pay any stupid taxes on it.







While we're at it, here goes the honeysuckle truffle recipe:

Honeysuckle* truffles:

ingredients:
1-2 large handfuls of fresh honeysuckle flowers
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
16 ounces of dark chocolate (70 percent cocoa content is ideal, but I find the dark
chocolate Ghiradelli chips work just fine)

Instructions:
A couple days in advance, gather the honeysuckle and soak them in the cream in the fridge overnight or for a few hours. Strain the honeysuckle off the cream. Heat 1 1/4 cups of the cream in a saucepan over low until just simmering. Remove from heat and cool to lukewarm. In the meantime, using a double boiler, melt 9 ounces of dark chocolate. When completely melted, stir the cream into the melted chocolate and stir thoroughly. Cover and put in the fridge to cool for at least 3 hours. This is your truffle base. When the base is cold and completely set, remove it from the fridge and roll the base into small balls. Set these on a cookie sheet on a piece of wax paper and put them back in the fridge to get good and cold and set (at least an hour.) Before removing them from the fridge, heat 7 ounces of the dark chocolate in the double boiler and melt completely. Remove the truffle base balls from the fridge. Take a large spoonful of melted chocolate from the double boiler and place it in the palm of your clean hand. Use the other hand to pick up one of the truffle base balls and roll it in the melted chocolate in your other hand, coating completely. Do this to all of the base balls. If you like, sprinkle a very light coat of cocoa powder (through a sieve) onto the top of the truffles. Put back into the fridge to set one last time. The coating will turn hard and a little crunchy, while the center will remain soft and smooth.
Keep the truffles refridgerated until you serve them. Enjoy the looks on the eaters faces when they bite in! Thanks to Rachel Brownlee for the truffle recipe.


*Note about honeysuckle: Because it's an oriental invasive plant, I will rip out honeysuckle vines from my land just as much as the next gardener or native plants enthusiast. However, it is so hardy and pervasive that, like many other non-native invasives, it is almost like fighting a losing battle. So while I am losing, I prefer to revel in the magnificence of all its heavenly glory and even sing its sweet praises. I know, it's a paradox, but when life gives you honeysuckles...

2 comments:

Milkweed said...

Love love love love love it. I love the image of you and Jenna as kids imbibing all that nectar one drop at a time, and now years later making honeysuckle wine.

And truffles! My tastebuds are singing just at the thought.

Check your emails regarding Honeysuckle Ice Cream.

You are my hero, Dana Dee.

xo

Girl In An Apron said...

Your childhood memory was perfectly described, I could see myself as a little girl doing the same exact thing, and it was always picking suckles from neighbors fence rows.
My only regret is that I didn't act fast enough and grab one of your truffles last weekend. Boo! Perhaps there will be a sip of mead lingering around for me to sample in the future! Nice post!