Egyptian Honey

Some of the twelve types of Egyptian honey we have sampled

I will say at the outset that this blog post is not about an Egyptian woman. Though prurient minds may want to think otherwise, this update is about real Egyptian honey produced by real Egyptian bees.

I also need to say up front that I have spent the better part of my 47 years not really being all that fond of honey. For that I blame one of my younger brothers. 

He was that kid who was hungry all the time, and his drug of choice was the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He lived on them. He happily ate PBJs at every meal. He preferred to have Mom make them, of course, but when she was not around, he was also quite happy to help himself. He'd grab the bread first, throwing two slabs of white, processed sugary goodness down on the counter, and then he'd go for the silverware. He used one knife. I want to make that clear; one knife. Not a spoon and a knife; one knife. He would plop the jar of peanut butter down and then plop the jar of grape jelly down. Then he would take the one knife, scooping out an ungodly amount of peanut butter and smearing it over both slabs of bread. Then he'd go for the jelly. It is here that I need to tell you that he did not clean the knife before taking a stab at the jelly jar (I was as horrified then as I am now). He would then proceed to smear the jelly together with the peanut butter, first on one slab of bread and then the other. He would often go back to the jelly jar a couple of times, occasionally licking the knife clean before diving back into the jelly.

The result was a very messy counter and a jelly jar that looked like a vomit receptacle. Long before Goober-Grape disgraced the grocery shelves in my hometown, the homemade version was an integral part of the refrigerator at our house. It was disgusting and revolting.

And the reason I was not fond of honey? When we ran out of jelly, my brother sometimes made peanut butter and honey sandwiches. You can fill in the rest of the grisly mental picture.

Fast forward to Cairo, 2013. Dana and I have just arrived in town. We are ushered straight from the airport to our flat. The folks in our school's housing department have stocked the fridge for us (nice touch). Three days later, the pita is gone, and the jam is gone. The natural yogurt is gone, and the mangoes are gone. The fresh juice is gone. There is only white bread and Egyptian honey left. It is 4 a.m., and I am starving. So I make myself a honey sandwich. 

I have not tasted honey in at least thirty years.

Suddenly, I am in love with this stuff.

The amber crack cocaine that the housing department has put in our refrigerator is produced by a company of Egyptian, organic-honey-producing drug-pushers called Imtenan. Imtenan is one of four major Egyptian honey drug rings that purchase raw honey from Egypt's 100,000 strong army of bee-keepers. Imtenan is the one company that keeps its product pure and organic. They also have the largest range of products. Go to any small grocery store in Cairo, and you will find at least five different kinds of Imtenan honey on the shelves. There is the traditional clover honey and the comb honey. There is an orange-blossom honey. There is a thyme-infused honey as well as an oregano-infused honey. You can also find honey infused with echinacea and several varieties infused with different types of wild flowers. Each kind of honey has a different color, aroma and taste; and they are all superb. And aside from the comb honey, each jar of golden, honeyed, crystal methamphetamine will set you back all of $2; the comb honey is about $10.

Honey has been a part of the Egyptian diet since the ancients began to record history here. Sealed jars of honey have been excavated in several pharaonic tombs, and to the utter amazement of the archaeologists, it is still edible (I would have liked to have seen the poor bastard that drew the short straw on that decision, though). Today, honey is the major way that Egyptians sweeten their coffees, teas and cakes; and it is far healthier than refined, processed sugar.

So tonight I do as I do almost every night. I saunter to the fridge, and I grab one of twelve different jars of honey. I plop the jar of honey down on the granite counter. I go for the silverware, and I grab one spoon. I need to be very clear about this; I grab one spoon. With my one spoon, I scoop out an ungodly amount of honey, and I shove it straight into my gob. Sometimes I go back for seconds without cleaning the spoon.

*this week's photo is by Dana Purpura ... The jars of honey shown here were devoured within one week.