Batemen’s Sourwood Honey

There is no other honey. I and my Dad and my grandfather are honey snobs. I live in Asheville and claimed I had found the best honey in the world. They live in Winston and claimed they had.
Turns out the Ace hardware owner they were buying honey from was making trips to Topton! I was buying Bateman honey at the farmer’s market. LOL – we were both right.
This is the best honey in the world. There is waiting list to get it. You will want to shoot all those little bears in the supermarket filled with corn syrup if you try it. It is the kiss of God in a mason jar.

«The Cadillac of honeys.» Or so it has this honey been described by those vendors lucky enough to possess any. It has been said a good crop only surfaces once a decade, and will tell you, that of apiarists, Morris & Wendell Bateman of Topton, North Carolina, is among the best, if not THE bee best. In fact, when telling one of their vendors on the phone that I’d recently acquired a 2011 canning, she gasped with disbelief that any remained for sale or unconsumed. And yes, this made me feel more the lucky. I discovered some while perusing a killer vintage antique, collectible and clothing store in Augusta, GA called «Mema’s.» It was on a food rack right near the front door. I admit, I love honeys, live in the town of the prolific company, Savannah Bee Company, but like many folks, have only really been cultured on the brown honeys, which will garner no complaint from me, but confess, pale in comparison to the flavor of Sourwood. This honey, other than having a flowery, spice wood effervescence, with hints of anisette, didn’t leave that standard aftertaste that is so pungent and overly sweet. Its finish was mild and then left you your mouth without the need of some chaser. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t see brown honey like that before, but Bateman’s Sourwood showed me the difference. If it weren’t so obviously gauche to drink it straight, I’d drink it. It’ll make a bear of anyone. Mostly I added it to my teas, and so drank it like a gentleman, but admit that it made me a kid too, and found myself sneaking spoonfuls day and night. Writer, Carson Brewer put it best when he relished, «Most honey is made by bees. But sourwood is made by bees and angels.» The only thing I would offer, is that the angels have a family name, Batemen. I’ve not met them, but when they were spoken of, they were talked about as if mystical beings from another dimension. Which sometimes makers of good things from their land in the hillsides of North Carolina, might very well strike one. That they live «up there» and do that thing they do, and now and again, come down where we mortals are. Morris & Wendell were discussed as these tall, dark, lanky, even Cherokee-​ish like men who said little with words, but much with gesture or deed. Friendly, but almost not of this earth. I’m sure they’d chuckle to read this, but its their fans who made them so mythical feeling to me. Apparently they came or come from a family of 7 sons, and following the Korean War, 3 of them began this pursuit of creating great Sourwood. One brother, I believe, Roger, is now beyond his own physical ability to do the work his two siblings have carried on. May the great bee spirits surround thee sir! None-​the-​less, Morris & Wendell carry on and trust me, what they do is a craft of the highest artisanship and specialized beyond belief. The Sourwood, known as «The Lily of The Valley,» only blooms between June & August, a VERY narrow window to prepare the bees to hone in on these specific flowers. If the bees come to soon, they will harvest from the Sumac, and if they come to late, will miss the flow of nectar. And my Foodie fans, there is no such thing as a partial Sourwood. If it cannot meet the purity standards, it cannot be sold or labeled as Sourwood, making it all the more the rare, and setting it further apart in niche than really any other in the country. The whole process humbles this Foodie philosopher really. It reminds that my pursuit is to enjoy, to eat, but to also appreciate, and what the Batemans do is sheer poetry. And isn’t it an emblem of life’s work? Study nature, remain the humble student, do your work honestly, and reap the sweetness. Not surprisingly, their honey, by my shopping experience anyway, comes in a plain, glass mason jar with the gold, aluminum lid. From what I can tell, its delivered unlabeled and the stores just print their own or add a tag to make it seem more boutique. It reminds us of a simpler time doesn’t it? One our children barely know or may never. The stuff of our grandmothers and our own Mema’s. The stuff of markets and grocers of yesteryear. Nothing wrong with some cool labeling, or profit, but how much of what our food world is about the face to face, hand to hand experience? Today mostly its grown elsewhere, arrives on a truck and we accept it as convenience. And I think this is why people are so sick and perhaps the bees too. Our food culture has been reversed through chemicals and so called, convenience. Yet we’re starved for the spiritual food connection at some innate level. The old way is more attune with our basic nature. This is still something alive in Bateman’s Sourwood and why its rarer than it is rare. To get yours, call Mema’s at (706) 421‑0626 or Teaque’s Country Store, who know the brother’s personally, (828) 253‑4756 Tell’m The Foodie Agent sent ya!