Sunday, August 27, 2017

Easy honey mead, using the historic technique of washing comb.

Washing honey comb is not only interesting from a historic point of view, it also tickles my frugal homesteading fancy. While in our modern times honey in comb built up on frames can be easily and cleanly removed, sometimes there are situations when that is not the case, and while the wax can be melted and cleaned, the honey is often seen as a loss. Maybe only one side of a frame is soiled but  you don't want that in your centrifugal extractor. Or part of the honey solidified within the comb during winter, or in storage, and the extractor won't be able to sling it out. What we could do, and I learned this from reading medieval beekeeping manuals, is to wash the comb to harvest the very last drop of sugary goodness.

In history bees were kept in hives without an internal frame system. This meant that the combs were free hanging and to harvest the honey, the combs would have to be processed as well. What makes the modern extractor so useful is that by uncapping the comb cells, only the cell lids are cut off, whereby the honey can be slung out, or extracted, through centrifugal force, and the empty combed frame can be given back to be bees to refill. As bees need to use resources to make wax to build comb - bees consume up to eight pounds of honey to make one pound of wax - giving back empty comb helps to make even more honey, for us to share!

But when the extractor can not be used, either because you want to only collect sections of a frame (to exclude brood, or soiled comb), or the honey crystallized and won't budge, then the old and trusted method of washing comb can be used to make a honey solution, perfect for fermenting into mead.

Following is a step by step photo journal of a washed comb must I made this week:


I started with a super of frames full of honey. Unfortunately, these were frames from a hive which did not make it through winter. This was supposed to be their winter stash and since they had not use it, the winter temperatures caused most of the liquid honey to crystallize. There were also small patches of wax moths and one frame of mice damage. Any areas with insect remains were scraped off and the comb on the frame with mice damage was discarded. As it has been my preference to harvest honey only once a year, in the fall, to emulate the bio-diversity of flower species and thus more intricate taste of honey as would be expected from the less cultivated (and less mono-culture) medieval times. Therefore the honey in my hives tends to be much darker than standard spring or wildflower honey, or even fall honey.


The honey-liquid in the open cells is already starting to ferment by itself (as the bubbles on the surface give away!). I had packed up the two supers of my ex-hive in heavy plastic in early spring, and immediately noticed upon unwrapping last week something ferment-y was going on.


When the frame is uncapped (the lids of the cells are cut off with a large bread-like knife) it becomes clear which part is crystallized (left) and which is liquid honey (right). Once uncapped, the liquid honey will run away on it's own, and in medieval times this honey (from removed but not crushed comb) was regarded as the best quality and called 'life' or 'virgin' honey.


The cappings are collected in a capping tub. This tub has a floor grate to collect any extra honey stuck to the cappings which will slowly drip off and collect at the bottom. I choose to wash this pile of cappings instead of only melting it into wax, and was rewarded with nearly 4 gallons of must. As these cappings are the best quality wax in a hive, while they might be an easy way to get honey must for a period washed comb mead, you might have to promise the beekeeper you'll return his wax remnants promptly!
 

The frames in the extractor, busily spinning around... 
The extracted honey sounds like rain on the outside of the stainless steel drum.


A piece of comb showing the difference in extraction of crystallized honey (left) and liquid honey (right). The cells of the liquid honey now stand empty, while clearly visible sugar crystals still remain in the cells on the left.


I also scraped off the comb from the frames as I do not currently have bees and wanted to clean out the supers completely to prevent mice and wax moths in storage. If I still had bees I would only scrape off the crystallized sections and return the rest, or use a large enough tub with warm water at the bottom to soak the whole frames to dissolve the sugars and return the combed frames intact.


Warm water was added to the pile of scraped comb (sterilize the bucket before adding the scraped comb, and either sterilize your arm, or scrub with hot water and soap). I use my fingers to break up clumps of wax to make check water is able to get to all the undissolved sugars (this method is detailed in several medieval beekeeping manuals).

As my primary interest is in emulating historic recipes I like working with scraped comb, as that is most similar to free formed whole comb. I find that washed honey has a slight flavor from the comb, a delicate spiciness, I associate with wax, propolis and pollen. Honey boiled with comb has a much stronger flavor profile, and often makes one think of spiced honey wine. I think this added flavor is why in history 'life' or first grade honey was so well regarded, as it did not have any contact with wax during collection (processing) and would only taste of the honey itself. In a way this makes me think of maple syrup, where grade A is the most valuable. Not because it has the most taste - quite the opposite! It was most valuable because it had the least flavor and thereby would not make everything it was used to sweeten in taste like maple syrup.


When all sugars are dissolved (the empty wax rises to the top) I scoop out the wax and squeeze the honey liquors out. Some medieval texts feel the liquor from squeezing makes for crude honey must (which could come from more contact with the wax and impart more of the wax/pollen flavor), some find it appropriately frugal, and others use it separately, as a lesser grade must. As indicated before, comb imparts a flavor to the honey and this effect was apparently well known, and not always appreciated, in history. As it is my intent to use the comb flavor I squeezed my wax to maximize my must yield.
 

Well squeezed wax ball. Later these will be melted, filtered and molded into wax bricks.


The dissolved honey liquor was too strong for a traditional fermentation, as indicated by the floating egg. If the egg floats sideways in a honey must the sugar concentration or density is too high for fermentation with Saccharomyces cerevisiae. It would work for fermentation with osmophilic yeasts, as those prefer sugar concentrations over 15%. But, since I had boiled the must to impart the comb flavors (and sterilize, as some of the frames had been invaded by critters during winter) the endemic osmophilic yeast had been killed off, therefore a less than 15% sugar concentration would be needed for a traditional wine/beer yeast.


 A perfect sugar density reading from a fresh egg. This would make a semi dry to sweet mead.

The cleaned off frames in a super box 'mobbed' by wild neighborhood bees. I put out the scraped, and the discarded - this particular frame was of great interest to the bees as it had mouse poop on honey filled comb - I could not use it, but they sure did! It will take them a couple days to empty out the two supers and then everything can go back in storage. Maybe next year I'll find a swarm...


To read more about historic washing of comb and the egg float test, please download a copy of my paper Of Hony, Making Mediaeval Mead at Academia.edu:
https://www.academia.edu/31052051/Of_Hony_-_A_collection_of_Mediaeval_brewing_recipes

Processing Beeswax

As part of making washed comb mead I of course now have much washed wax as well. Following is what I did to clean the wax so I could then use it to make something else (in this case, saddle soap!).


 The cappings from the uncapped honey comb, all washed and filtered out of the honey must.
 
 

I then gather a big handful and squeeze all the remnant liquid out, and form balls of the solid parts.


I also added the empty wax comb I scraped off my frames. As you can see there is an bovious difference in color between the (high quality) yellow wax cappings and the (low quality) brown empty brood comb.


Then the comb is heated to melt double boiler style. I have two pots which fit into each other, and fill the outside one with water which in turn heats and melts the wax in the inside pot. It is easy to scorch wax as it has a high melting point, and the double boiler method helps prevent this from happening (especially getting distracted).


Most of the wax is now melted, apart from some yellow little bits. While slowly heating and melting I stirred the wax to make sure all parts get heated equally.


When all is melted - and there will be bits in there which are not wax and will not melt, like dead bees and slumgum - very slowly pour the hot wax through a coarse filter into a container. I like using  mason jars as they are heat resistant and can later also safely be used as a double boiler to melt again (and double as a useful storage jar). I found a coffee filter to be too fine to filter wax and know others use (salvation army) cotton sheets or cheese cloth to do so. As I have milking goats I have access to milk filters and found those to work well (cost about $8 for 100 at Tractor Supply). I used about 3 separate filters to fill this quart jar, and then will double as firestarters come winter. As I do not enjoy scrubbing solidified wax off my funnels I did not use a funnel to support the filter. As long as I am careful not to pour too fast once it is filled it will stay up on it's own and not need support.


I also make sure to pour slowly so the slumgum in the back of the pot did slide forward into the small filter. Slumgum is the residue of rendering beeswax as brood comb beeswax contains not only wax but also the pupal lining, pollen and other residual debris. Rendering cappings or honey comb wax creates less slumgum, and more wax, making it more valuable. Of course, this slumgum is not a waste product in my household either! Add some sawdust (about half and half), mix well and fill emtpy cardboard egg containers: and voila! more firestarters (use one 'egg' at a time).


The finished product, worth it's weight in gold: beeswax!
It is already mostly used in making saddle soap, and man, does it make nice soap...