Corbezzolo Honey

When I was a kid growing up in Cabrillo Park, there were two ornamental trees on Nicolet Street, around the corner from my house, that captivated me.  These were small trees, evergreens with glossy oval leaves.  The flowers were like clusters of little pink-tinged bells, and the fruits were these wonderful spiky little balls.  They started out green, slowly turned red over the course of the year, and eventually were fat juicy globes filled with a brilliantly orange pulp.  They didn't taste good (I tried, believe me), but they splatted beautifully in the street, and my first-grade friends and I would take turns stealing fruit and throwing it out so that passing cars might smush it down to red-and-orange stripes on the pavement.

[No, Manna, you weren't the only one engaging in that brand of foolishness.  I had to giggle when I read your post about the peppers and buses.]

I loved those trees-- they were cut down when I was a teenager, like many other nice trees in our neighborhood-- but I had no idea what they were called.  I went ahead and named them in honor of one of my first-grade friends, a boy named Greg who was always up for a game of fruit-splatting.  He had a polysyllabic Italian last name that sounded good as a name for the trees.  Also, I really liked Greg-- I must have, as I tried to re-name myself after him, too!  I always did hate my given name.

After many years and several false IDs, I finally concluded the two little trees were examples of arbutus unedo, also known as the strawberry tree and the Apple of Cain.  The Sardinians, though, call the tree the corbezzolo... and the honey from those little bell-like flowers turns out to be a delicacy.  It wasn't easy to track down the honey, but I did manage it, and I finally got my hands on a jar of it tonight.  It's a thick, opaque honey, rather like the Scottish heather honey I got in London a decade ago.  Like heather honey, corbezzolo honey is known for being bitter; it won't really sweeten your tea.  I thought it had a very nice taste, actually-- complex, but not acrid and not as bitter as some heather honeys I've encountered.  It's supposed to be good with cheese, but I just had a spoonful of it.  Those of you without a long-standing affection for the strawberry tree might not see what the fuss is about, but for me it was a nice moment of closing-off another memory of my childhood.

Also, the apiary that sells corbezzolo honey also sells... asphodel honey.  Never seen that before.  Didn't know it existed.  I think it's a sign, or something...

X-ref "The Line"

"We're probably wanted for murder and conspiracy. Considering, you know, we overthrew legitimate authority."

Oh, how I love me a subversive playthrough of a video game... 

This gratuitous promo for the current round of fe_contest is brought to you by the Committee of Concerned Citizens Who Think That Hector Does Seem Rather Sociopathic At Times.