Bees are in trouble, their population ravaged by herbicides, pesticides and the disappearance of pollinating plants.
But you sure wouldn't know it while perusing grocery stores, cheese shops and farmers markets for the sweet nectar they produce: honey.
Not much more than a decade ago, those plastic-bear squeeze bottles didn't have much competition. Now, honeys and honey-based products proliferate across the culinary landscape. And artisanal producers — especially local ones — are thriving.
Honey output from Minnesota producers with five or more colonies totaled 6.96 million pounds in 2019, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, more than our share of the 157 million pounds harvested nationally.
The local offerings include not-so-plain honeys sourced from certain plants and regions — Bare Honey founder Dustin Vanasse calls them "floweroirs" — but also infused into everything from marshmallows to local confections.
Honey used in Mademoiselle Miel's popular bonbons often emanates from hives on the St. Paul store's rooftop, although owner Susan Brown — who also keeps hives above the city's Union Depot — is expanding her hive collection to rural locales, as well. "It's a lot more work keeping them on the roof," Brown said, "because we have to carry stuff up and down a ladder. We don't have to worry about bears, but do have a lot of climbing."
It turns out that having bees in both the city and the country expands the flavor profiles that honey-mongers can offer, said Jacob Kulju, proprietor of Skinny Jake's Fat Honey. He started with several rooftop and backyard hives in the metro area — including, appropriately, atop the Food Building in northeast Minneapolis — but has moved to a farm in Taylors Falls, Minn.
"In the early part of spring with so many apple and crabapple trees, the city is like a big orchard, and we get an early influx of fruit-tree nectar," he said. "But after that there's such a wide variety [of pollinators]. Out here it's primarily clover, fruit trees and basswood."