Posts Tagged: nectar
That simple request, prefaced with a term of endearment for good measure, means there's honey on the table.
And well there should be. As the daughter, granddaughter and great-great granddaughter (and beyond) of beekeepers, I grew up with honey on the table. (And on my fingers, face and clothes.)
My favorite then was clover honey from the lush meadows and fields of our 300-acre farm in southwest Washington. My favorite now is Northern California yellow starthistle honey, derived from the blossoms of that highly invasive weed, Centaurea solstitialis, which farmers hate (and rightfully so) and beekeepers love.
“Almost every honey has its own unique flavor-- even when it is the same varietal,” says Amina Harris, director of the UC Davis Honey and Pollination Center. “There are characteristics we learn to look for, but even within that variety, the honey will differ from each area collected. For instance: avocado honey is known for being very dark amber with a flavor reminiscent of molasses, licorice or anise. However, once you start tasting a selection, some will taste like blackstrap molasses and very black licorice. Others will have almost a fruity flavor like dried figs or prunes. Most folks can't tell the difference – and then there are the honey nerds, like me!”
“My favorite all-around honey is one I keep returning to. I love sweet clover from the High Plains with its cinnamon hit —the spicy characteristic is just something I love,” Harris said. “My favorite ‘shock honey' is coriander. Collected near Yuba City, this seed crop gives us a honey that is like walking through a spice bazaar with hints of cardamom, cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, coriander and — chocolate.”
The UC Davis Honey and Pollination Center, located in the Mondavi Institute for Wine and Food Science on Old Davis Road, periodically offers courses on the sensory evaluation of honey, as well as honey tastings. Next up: the center will host free honey tastings at its home base during the 105th Annual Campuswide Picnic Day on April 13, and at the California Honey Festival in downtown Woodland on May 4. Another popular honey tasting: California Extension apiculturist Elina Lastro Niño, based in the UC Davis Department of Entomology and Nematology, hosts a honey tasting at Briggs Hall during the annual Picnic Day.
There's more to honey than meets the eye — or the palate. The Honey and Pollination Center recently hosted a three-day Sensory Evaluation of Honey Certificate Course last October, using “sensory evaluation tools and methods to educate participants in the nuances of varietal honey,” Harris said. Northern California public radio station KQED spotlighted the course on its “Taste This” program.
And we owe it all to honey bees.
Pollination ecologist Stephen Buchmann of the University of Arizona (who received his doctorate in entomology from UC Davis, studying with native pollinator specialist Robbin Thorp), writes in his book, Honey Bees: Letters from the Hive, that each worker bee “may make four to ten or so flights from the nest each day, visiting hundreds or many thousands of flowers to collect nectar and pollen. During her lifetime, a worker bee may flown 35,000 to 55,000 miles collecting food for her and her nest mates. One pound of honey stored in the comb can represent 200,000 miles of combined bee flights and nectar from as many as five million flowers.”
Take a 16-ounce jar of honey at the supermarket. That represents “the efforts of tens of thousands of bees flying a total of 112,000 miles to forage nectar from about 4.5 million flowers,” writes Buchmann.
Of course, we primarily appreciate honey bees for their pollination services (one-third of the food we eat is pollinated by bees) but honey is more than just an after thought.
It's been described as “liquid gold,” “the nectar of the gods” and “the soul of a field of flowers.” Frankly, it's nothing short of miraculous.
And well it should be.
A honey bee sips honey from honeycomb. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
A honey bee sips nectar from a lavender blossom. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
You're watching honey bees foraging in a field. They buzz toward a blossom, sip nectar, and then head for another blossom. Typical, right? But there's much more...
A honey bee heads toward a lupine blossom. It's not just the nectar she's scented. UC Davis community ecologist Rachel Vannette has just published a paper in New Phytologist journal that shows nectar-living microbes release scents or volatile compounds, too, and can influence a pollinator's foraging preference. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
Microbial stains (fungi and bacteria) isolated from floral nectar. (Photo by Rachel Vannette)
This is the electroantennogram (EAG) assay set-up. (Photo by Bryan Smith, USDA-ARS)
It's surprising what the microbes in nectar can reveal. Take the nectar of the sticky monkeyflower, Mimulus auranticus. UC Davis community ecologist Rachel Vannette...
Researchers studied the microbes in the nectar of the sticky monkeyflower, Mimulus auranticus. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
How often do you see a honey bee "standing upright" to reach nectar? "Well, I guess I could just buzz up there and grab some nectar! But why not stay right here where I am...
A honey bee "stands upright" to reach the nectar on a Photinia blossom. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
Okay, I'll buzz over to it. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
Everybody eats in the pollinator garden. Maybe not at the same time, but they all eat. We noticed a syrphid fly, aka flower fly/hover fly, heading toward a Mexican...
A syrphid fly (bottom right) heads toward a Mexican sunflower occupied by a honey bee. The fly, aka hover fly and flower fly, wants some nectar, too.(Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
Can we share? As the honey bee keeps nectaring, the syrphid comes in for a taste. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
All mine! The honey bee wins. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
All mine! The syprhid fly takes over. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)
All mine! A drone fly claims it. The drone fly is often mistaken for a bee. Note the "H" on the abdomen of the fly. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)