Brewing Mead

With beekeeping comes brewing mead. Bill Clark judges the wine makers and brews his own first class mead.

Brewing Mead in  a tradition in Poland. Photo Wikipedia: Strzałecki, Tak, tak, Gerwazeńku, olej na płótnie, 1884 

Transcrippt from the podcast from Bill Clark's autobiography Route and Branch. you can listen to it here: https://archive.org/download/brewing-mead/Ch10f-brewing-mead.mp3

Of all the, ‘small’ gales, the Christmas Eve one in 1985 was the most upsetting for we always had a lot of visitors during the Christmas holiday. I cycled round at daybreak, expecting to have to put out the closed notices, but finding only two trees – out of the seven down – blocking paths, and a single hanging branch, I dashed home for my equipment.

By midday, exceedingly sweaty, dirty, and feeling guilty that Wendy was having none of my help with the family ‘gettogether’, I dragged the last trunk off the path with the tractor. Seeing a family group approaching, I jumped down to hurl a couple of small branches out of their path. One lady stopped briefly as they passed, and loudly exclaimed, ‘You would think that he could leave his blessed chain saw alone on Christmas Day of all days!’

This was the time of year that my wine and beer making efforts bore fruit! My occasional gallon had long since built up to as much as thirty eight in one year! The reason being, that I could give my long term volunteers a nicely presented bottle – or two – and on some tasks, whole groups could be treated to a glass of cider or beer. To prove to the recipients that they were getting something a little special, I attached a copy of my latest prize card. I was now judging wine at village shows – and of course could no longer enter my own! I could still enter my beer in one show – where I often got first – as they had a separate beer judge, but on one occasion, when he didn’t arrive, I was requested to take his place. I asked the steward to taste too, who thought that some were undrinkable. When he turned over the cards, he said they indicated that I had won the ‘panful’ – but I just gave myself a ‘First’, and left a note to say that the rest of the entries were, ‘not up to standard!’ At least my efforts were rewarded by hearing the comment – at the Wandlebury Cupola, topping out ceremony – ‘Bill’s champagne is better than that stuff we had at the wedding last week!’

When I joined the Cambridge Beekeepers Association in 1979 their Honey Show was held in conjunction with their AGM. It covered at most, four tables; later, in discussion with the Secretary – both of us having been voted into Committee posts half an hour earlier – we agreed that more should be made of the show, especially inviting the public to view: not only would it promote beekeeping, it could also help honey sales. Year on year the One-day Honey Show steadily grew. We moved it around various villages, in order to gain a wider audience – though opening to the public for only the afternoon, still didn’t give us a very wide, ‘window’ The catalyst for really doing something special was our 1981 centenary. And what a display it was.

On a splendid site – Our President, Mrs Townley’s lawns at Fulbourn Manor – and not only a two day show in a marquee, but demonstrations too. Alas it was also very expensive – even though it was in conjunction with the Fulbourn and Teversham Garden Society – and we returned to our previous format.

A week previously to our Centenary Show, I had attended the East of England Show with my ‘Spray Warning’ display, and spent the between times helping the Peterborough BKA in their marquee there – the outcome being that I promised I would try to get the CBKA to take part and help in future. Then only weeks after the Centenary Show, CBKA Publicity Officer, Bob Lemon, asked if I could help, as he had been invited to stage a beekeeping exhibit at the first ‘Fenland Fair.’ The stage was set to require my presence at three annual beekeeping shows, fortunately, Richard Steel, another beekeeping stalwart, threw himself into making permanent show equipment and helping set up – often providing 50% of the exhibits! In 1988 – the now fully fledged ‘Fenland Country Fair’ considered the, ‘Bob Lemon’ beekeeping exhibit warranted its own marquee, and the CBKA arranged to move the Honey Show in too – Saturday for the beekeepers, Sunday and Monday for the public – and very popular it proved to be.

Most years I constructed the ‘theme’ exhibit – this was not too onerous, as it was used at all three shows, and I also helped fill space at the Cambridge Honey Show with a Wandlebury exhibit, which first did duty at the Cambridge Converzatione. At least I could enter my theme, in the “Z Class” of the CBKA show, so I often won a Rosette for something, other than my mead entries! One successful theme was mead making – complete with tasting. The first airing was at the East of England Show. There was much interest in the three laden tables of bubbling jars, possible ingredients and information. Even Cecil Tonsley, a beekeeping magazine editor and honey show judge – famous for his own mead-making – volunteered to man it for a while. 

In the dying minutes of the final day, a group of men wandered in, and despite intimating ‘home-made’ was not for them, asked to taste – and then commented very favourably. I noticed them in a huddle outside, as I started to pack, then one strode back in and offered £6 each for all the remaining bottles, upping his offers after each of my refusals. After his final offer of £30 was refused, he said, ‘I am a BBC Producer, we have been celebrating the successful conclusion of a series and at the end of our dinner last night, we still had money in the pot, so I decided to treat us to a once in a lifetime toast, and bought a £300 bottle of wine; we are of the opinion that yours is equal to it!’ 

As I finished my packing, an elderly Peterborough beekeeper, having collected her own mead and honey exhibits, paused by my opened bottle still on the table, ‘May I have a taste of your Black Mead?’ She held up the glass to the light, ‘Hmm, it’s clear!’ Took a tentative sniff and then a sip. A look of anguish came over her face. Spitting it out, she snapped, ‘Absolute rubbish,’ and swept out of the marquee. By the time the Fenland Country Fair moved to Quy in 1989 and provided us with an even larger marquee, the PBKA no longer needed our help. Happily, our helper numbers had grown too and I was now only involved with one ‘Honey Show’.