Happy spring! The vernal equinox, daylight savings time, and the Jewish holiday of Purim may all be upon us, but brrrr! With umbrella-destroying winds, tornado watches along the coast, and socks-drenching rain, it's feeling much more like winter than balmy spring. Oh well--remember all those sunbathing days we got back in January?

Like most of us, bees prefer to stay inside where it's warm and dry on days like this, snuggling together in a big bee-ball to keep themselves, and especially their queen, nice and toasty. But for humans, the show must go on, and so CUESA's honey celebration at the San Francisco Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market on Saturday, March 19th went on even in the teeth of blowing rain. Once a month from February through November, CUESA will be hosting a celebration for a different fruit, vegetable, or product, featuring tastings, ask the farmer (or producer) sessions, and a variety of cooking demonstrations by local chefs and cookbook authors. Last month was citrus; this month, for the first time, was honey.

First up behind the counter was Margo True, food editor of Sunset magazine and the author (along with her staff) of Sunset's latest book, The One-Block Feast. The book, which comes out next week, came out of a series of homesteading projects undertaken by Sunset over the last couple of years. "We wanted to get back to the Lane brothers' original vision for Sunset, which was as a laboratory for Western living," said True. With a spacious garden, room for bees and chickens, the ability to get a "milk share" from a cow living at a nearby farm, and lots of kitchen room for testing, True and her team set out to see if they could make or source everything--even flour and sea salt--from as close to the magazine's Menlo Park campus as possible. The results were sometimes spectacular, sometimes frustrating, but all of it got incorporated into the book. True tried to be as honest as possible, promising that they "definitely wrote about what bombed," too.

However, on this gray morning, True was here to show off two recipes that promise big payback for not too much effort. A custard-based honey ice cream, made with honey from the magazine's own hives, had a suave, salted-caramel edge, thanks to a drizzle of honey on top and a sprinkle of sea salt. It's more lusciously creamy than sweet, but the honey flavor still comes through. Even though it was hardly ice cream weather, the crowd snapped up every sample and scraped the cups clean.

Next came strawberry jam, made of nothing more than ripe early-season berries, honey, and a dash of lemon juice. Rather than cook it on the stovetop, where the direct heat could scorch the mixture, True spread out her chunky berry puree in a thin layer on a baking sheet, then revealed her secret: a long, gentle bake in a slow oven, which would gently condense it down while preserving the berries' ripe flavor. Spread on slices of Acme bread, the finished jam did taste remarkably fresh, with a soft consistency somewhere between jam and compote, perfect for a yogurt parfait topped with granola and a handful of fresh berries.

When I was researching my own book about honey a decade ago, Helene Marshall and her husband, beekeeper Spencer Marshall of Marshall's Farm Honey, took me around their bee house, let me scoop a fingerful of eucalyptus honey straight out of the comb, and even let their bees model for photographs. Now, ten years later, Helene is still talking up the beauty of bees and the importance of local honey (and local pollinators), and finally, people are ready to hear what she has to say. Speaking about the recent resurgence of interest in backyard beekeeping, she said, "The biggest, best, and most important thing to come out of this is that people have respect for bees and beekeepers now, and a real appreciation of honey. People realize that we need those bees!"

Helene Marshall of Marshall's Farm Honey, offering samples of Fairmont Hotel

In front of the audience with J.W. Foster, executive chef of San Francisco's Fairmont Hotel, Helene talked about their latest project, putting hives on the Fairmont's roof. "I'm San Francisco born and raised, went to my junior and senior proms at the Fairmont, so it feels like our bees are going home. They can hitch a ride on a cable car...it's so San Francisco, I love it!" On warm days, the bees like to nip up to the penthouse level to sip from the fountains, getting a free look at that $15,000-a-night view.

So far, the Fairmont is hosting four hives, all very healthy. Last week's harvest yielded 60 pounds of honey, with a light, floral-herbal taste and an early-spring hint of eucalyptus. "This honey was harvested last week, extracted a couple of days ago and bottled this morning," said Helene.

Marshall's Farm Fairmont Hotel honey

With a lot of fresh honey at his disposal, Foster and his kitchen staff are experimenting to see what they can use it for. Their latest creation is an unctuous duck-egg aioli with olive oil, garlic, rosemary, and a touch of honey, used to dress chopped raw beef tartare with stovetop-smoked onions and cress salad on walnut crostini.

Ice cream, beef tartare...finally, the last chef, Brandon Jew of Bar Agricole, promised something hot, a hot toddy made with brandy, chartreuse, honey from Alan Hawkins' apiaries, bitters, and lemon peel. He made some mostarda, too, his spin on Bologna's favorite tart-sweet relish, a late-winter version made from brandied, spiced raisins mixed with a honey-based Seville orange marmalade, and served over a slice of pork pate. A few sips, and hey, was that a ray of sunshine coming down?

Drizzle your baklava with local honey. Photo of Potrero del Sol community garden's honey by Bill Basquin.

Well, there's no getting around it. My birthday is making its annual appearance in just a few days. Apart of the whole getting-older thing—I now believe that specifying the decade is detail enough, and if you want more you're going to have to wrestle me down and and force-feed me chocolate mousse until you can get into my purse—I'm actually rather fond of birthdays. Cards, new socks, licking icing off the candles, what's not to like? Given that there's only one day of the year when you can get total strangers to be nice to you for no reason, I don't understand those tight-lipped, don't-make-a-fuss types hating on their birthdays every year.

Anyway, they're lying. When my mother turned 70 a few years ago, she insisted that no recognition be given. No cards, no calls, no nothing, no how. I tried to abide, as did her beau, himself a hale and hearty 70-something. Naturally, she called both of us, late in the evening, irate and wanting to know why we'd blown off her birthday. By the time the day rolled around, it seemed, she's changed her mind and wanted the whole deal: phone calls, presents, pink icing roses, telegrams if only they still existed. My feeble little text message wasn't nearly good enough.

This month, of course, is happy birthday Libra month. Now Libras love Libras, so if you're lucky enough to have been born in October, you probably have a whole pile of lucky Libra pals. And there's nothing as much fun as a multi-headed Libra party monster. Take it from me: a party thrown by Libras is a good party: charming company, tasty munchies, lovely cocktails, just enough misbehavior to make the recap entertaining, but not so much that you have to reupholster the couch and buy schnapps for the neighbors. (If you want that sort of party, you wait a week and throw a shindig for the Scorpios.)

OK, so maybe I'm biased, but I'm also experienced, having written the book on this. And if you want to hear more, tune in to Mouthful Sunday night between 7 and 8pm on KRBC 91FM, when I'll be chatting about food, love, and astrology with host Michele Anna Jordan.

So how do you entertain your Libra lovelies? Well, keep in mind that Libras hate to be tied down. We're the sign of the scales, after all, and we like to keep everything in balance, some of this and some of that. We're noshers by nature, tasters who would happily take a forkful off everyone's plate, if we could do it gracefully. So the Libra party is full of little snacklets, tasty bites we can pop in our mouths without having to stop talking.

My dream Libra party menu would be Mediterranean in its drift, with savory little lamb kebabs dunked in herby Greek yogurt, glasses of champagne sparkling with floating pomegranate seeds, grated carrot salad drifted with a chiffonade of mint. And for dessert, a sweet and sticky baklava, not exactly Greek-authentic but absolutely delicious nonetheless. So enjoy, and happy birthday, Libra lovelies!

Birthday Baklava for Libras
Adapted from The Astrology Cookbook: A Cosmic Guide to Feasts of Love

Filling:
2 cups walnuts, blanched almonds, or pistachios, or a mixture of all three, finely chopped
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons honey
Pinch of salt
One of the following flavorings: 1 teaspoon grated orange and 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom; 1 teaspoon cinnamon and a pinch of ground cloves; 1 teaspoon rosewater; 1 teaspoon orange flower water

1/2 pound phyllo, defrosted
1/2 cup butter, melted

Honey syrup:
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup honey
1/2 tablespoon lemon juice
1/3 cup water
One of the following flavorings: 1/2 tablespoon grated orange rind; 1 stick cinnamon or 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon; 1/2 tablespoon rosewater

1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Lightly grease an 8-by-8-inch baking pan. Unfold phyllo dough and trim into 8-by-8-inch squares. Cover sheets with a damp cloth.

2. In a small bowl, mix finely chopped nuts, sugar, honey, salt, and your choice of flavorings. Set aside.

3. Spread a phyllo sheet over the bottom of the baking pan. Using a pastry brush, lightly brush sheet with melted butter. Repeat with 5 more sheets, lightly buttering each sheet before adding the next.

4. Spread approximately 2/3 cup of nut mixture over 6th phyllo sheet. Layer 4 sheets (buttering each one) on top of the nuts. Spread another 2/3 cup of the nut mixture on top sheet, and top with another 4 sheets (buttering between each one). Spread with last 2/3 cup of nut mixture. Top with 6 sheets, buttering each one and finishing with a final layer of butter.

5. Using a sharp knife, make four equal cuts (about 1 1/2 inches apart) through the top layer of pastry. Then make eight equal diagonal cuts (approximately 1 inch apart) across these strips to form 18 diamond shapes. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until pastry is crisp and pale golden.

6. While baklava is baking, make the syrup. In a heavy-bottomed pan, heat sugar, honey, lemon juice, and water to boiling. Keep a close eye on it, as the syrup will froth and foam up. Add orange rind, cinnamon stick, or ground cinnamon, if using. Over medium-low heat, simmer for 10 minutes, until syrup has thickened slightly. If using rose water, add now. Remove from heat and pour into a pitcher. Let cool.

7. Pour syrup over hot pastry. (Alternately, let pastry cool to room temperature before cutting. Reheat syrup to almost boiling, then pour hot syrup over cool pastry. See note. ) You may not need all of the syrup. Following the previously made cuts, cut pastry all the way through into diamonds and let syrup soak in for at least 3 hours before serving.

Note: The trick to ensuring a crunchy, sticky pastry is to pour cool syrup over hot pastry, or hot syrup over cool pastry. As long as the pastry and syrup are opposite in temperature when they come together, you won’t end up with soggy baklava.

With spring just a few weeks away, it's a busy day at the Sacramento Beekeeping Supplies. In between ringing up jars of local honey, three generations of the Stewart family answer a stream of questions with both patience and passion. If you're curious about how bees make honey, which size wick to use in your candle-making, the science of animal communications or the health benefits of bee pollen, there's no better place to spend an afternoon. If you're already a dedicated beekeeper, well, then, you've probably already met Nancy and Fred, the proprietor and the talker, respectively, who run this gem of a shop.

They're known and loved by apiarists throughout Northern California and have loyal customers extended throughout the west. Nancy opened the business in 1985 and ran the day-to-day operations, while Fred supplied bees to local orchards in his hours after work. Once he retired, though, he was able to spend more time at the shop, and now, on any given day, you'll find him leaning on his cane offering mini lectures on any topic from why hives swarm to the best way to catch a queen bee.

You can taste different varieties of honey at the tasting bar. Choose your own too-cute jar to fill with one of the honeys that they keep on tap, or head to the bee-themed gift section for souvenirs that the TSA won't confiscate. Crafty folks will love the back room, where candle molds, sheets of wax and Ukrainian egg kits (just in time for Easter) provide distraction during these rainy days. For now, I enjoy their honeys -- sage, coastal wildflower, the unique Davis blend -- but already hooked by their excitement, I can't help daydreaming about my very own beginner's beekeeping kit.

Sacramento Beekeeping Supplies
2110 X Street
Sacramento, CA 95818
(916) 451-2337
Map

I recently discovered the merits of the hot toddy. I started drinking them over the December holidays after I woke up one morning with a head cold and sore throat. Although I was skeptical that this centuries old hot drink would help me feel better than a regular cup of tea, I was happy to sip something a little different. I became a convert to its medicinal advantages, however, when after a few sips the rough soreness in my throat dissipated while warmth radiated throughout my body. I'm not kidding here. That hot toddy really did make me feel remarkably better.

The hot toddy was supposedly created when tea came to Scotland, and, as you might expect, the Scots felt the need to add a little of their mother's milk -- that is whisky -- to the brew. Since then, hot toddies have become synonymous with the idea of body-warming goodness on cold days. In addition to being hailed as a cold and flu remedy, hot toddies are said to also cure insomnia, which make sense to me.

Some people make hot toddies with tea, a sweetener, and lemon, along with whisky, brandy, bourbon, or rum. I like using either black tea or chamomile as I think the flavors nicely accent the drink, but you can really use any type of tea you like, or just leave it out all together. I've also made an alcohol free hot toddy for my daughters, which is an option if you're making the drink for children or prefer yours without alcohol.

And, speaking of the alcohol, I've been using brandy simply because the Scotch whisky I have on hand is expensive and so I want to enjoy it on its own. I also use brandy because it has a natural sweetness that lends itself nicely to honey and lemon in the drink. Whisky, however, is the historical choice, so if you have some and aren’t as stingy as I am, you should give it a try. Rum and bourbon are also an option, although I haven’t tried them.

So whether you're sick, can't fall asleep, or just chilly and in need of a warm drink that will exude heat throughout your body, a hot toddy may just do the trick.

Hot Toddy

Makes one cup

Ingredients:
1 cup hot tea
1 shot brandy, whisky, bourbon or rum
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 Tbsp honey

Preparation:
1. Make a cup of tea the way you like it (that is, strong or weak and with whatever type of tea leaves you like).
2. Stir in the alcohol, lemon juice and honey.
3. Enjoy

Related BAB Posts:
Drunkard, Heal Thyself
Starve a Fever, Feed a Cold

I'm not sure my neural pathways for good ice cream and the future of agriculture have ever sparked simultaneously before, but a recent posting sure caught my attention. If you happen to know someone who recently received their Ph.D. in entomology, you can point them, too, toward Haagen-Dazs' recently established fellowship in honey bee biology at the University of California, Davis. For those who need more hands-on training, be sure to check out the advanced workshop later this month on queen bee insemination.

I've had a special place in my heart for bees ever since 10th grade, when I sewed a poufy costume out of black and yellow felt, donned a pair of glittery oh-so-80s deely boppers, and performed the bee dance right there in front my Life Sciences classmates. My two best friends dutifully stood in opposite corners of the room, one holding a cheerful cardboard sun and the other a giant flower fluffed out of pink tissue paper. Meanwhile, I buzzed and wiggled my ass up and down the center aisle to demonstrate the figure-eight flow of a honey bee's information-laden wag-tail dance (pdf). Yes, I got an A for my earnest efforts. No, I never did find a date until I fled for college.

So, it was with special delight that I created a bee avatar and sent bee-mail at Haagen-Dazs' Help the Honey Bees website. The pages have a charm often missing in both corporate and environmental education sites, let alone one that tries to inform consumers about Colony Collapse Disorder, an obscure but very real crisis threatening bee populations, farmers' livelihoods, our country's food supply, and several of our state's leading businesses. (Almonds anyone?) In keeping with the sugary high of America's favorite dessert, the dire messages remain upbeat. Not even this cynic -- viral marketing and Nestle be damned -- could resist a parade of little buzzing bees holding up signs with hand-lettered slogans such as "Save Our Hive" and "Act Now" in order to move consumers to care for their plight.

Other Honey Bee Resources
For an excellent presentation on the lives of bees, full of passion and humor, watch honey bee expert Dennis vanEngelsdorp's appearance at last year's Taste3 conference. (You can join the 2008 Taste3 gathering in nearby Napa if you happen to have $1,950 budgeted for continuing education on wine, food and art.)

Don’t forget Bug Day at the Randall Museum. This Saturday, the San Francisco Beekeepers' Association will be there with their very own exhibit of live honey bees. Admission to this celebration of all things with six legs is free. You can buy a picnic lunch there or bring your own hamper of treats to enjoy on the museum's wonderful lawn with a view. I highly recommend this event for anyone from age 3 to 103.

If you've always wanted to keep your own hive, read this classic booklet on beekeeping in California (pdf).

Since I have no room for a hive on my fire escape, I content myself with a few pots of bee-luring flowers. This excellent guide on urban bee gardens created by a research group at the University of California offers specific advice for bee-lovers in the Bay Area.

And for those who just want to cut to the chase, Marshall's Farm Honey is the way to go. Remember that anything sweetened with honey rather than sugar depends much more on bee-power than fossil fuels.

What better way to enjoy the sweetness of our land?

For more info on Bees watch, listen and discuss KQED QUEST's Better Bees: Super Bee and Wild Bee.