Artisanal Chunk Honey

Other than looking pretty, I’ve never understood the appeal of Chunk Honey. Chunk what? A chunk of comb honey, or what the layperson might call honeycomb, is dropped into a jar and then filled with honey. Or in my case, it’s dropped into a jar already full of honey. And that’s it.

Comb honey I get. Liquid honey I get. But both of them in the same jar seems like a waste of comb honey — and it seems like a huge mess. However, before I pass final judgement, I should at least try it out first. Too many bad beekeepers — and everyone can be a bad beekeeper when they’re having a bad day — often dismiss things they’ve never even tried. Anyone who knows me knows I’m always saying, “Don’t listen to advice. Listen to experience.” I still say that. I used to dismiss opening feeding because I was always advised not to do it. Then I did it and realised it’s not such a bad thing when you know how to do it right. I felt the same way about harvesting under ripened honey — that is, honey that isn’t cured down to 17% moisture and still has watery nectar in it — until I tried it myself and, again, realised, this is pretty damn good stuff. It’ll ferment in the sun in a hurry, but it’s also a unique treat, a nice change from regular honey. So…

Chunk honey. (November 14th, 2020.)

Maybe this Chunk Honey isn’t so bad after all. Maybe it is a big mess that isn’t worth the effort. I don’t know. Either way, I made some on my kitchen table this morning. I don’t know when or how I’ll eat it, but I’ll report back and update this post afterwards with my verdict.

Postscript: I’m joking when I refer to this as “artisanal” comb honey. The words “artisanal” and “artisan” are often used to sell honey products to trusting customers at a higher price, not unlike how “natural” and “pure” and even false “organic” labels are used to entice a specific customer base. Don Draper would be proud.