The Sweet Art of Honey Tasting: Flavour, Pairings, and Why Provenance Matters

Honey tasting is one of those quietly indulgent rituals that sneaks up on you. One minute you’re spreading a bit on toast, the next you’re swishing a spoon through a jar like a sommelier, trying to work out whether that floral note is blackberry blossom or your imagination being a bit dramatic.

And that’s the joy of it. Honey isn’t just “sweet.” It’s layered, expressive, moody, seasonally influenced, and unapologetically proud of where it comes from. Each jar is a snapshot of a landscape — a moment in time captured by thousands of tiny, hard-working alchemists.

Once you start paying attention, a whole world opens up.

Every Honey Has a Story — And a Flavour Palette to Match

A good honey tasting isn’t complicated. Start with a few jars from different beekeepers or different regions, line them up, and taste them in order from lightest to darkest.

That’s when the surprises hit.

Hawthorn honey? Pear-drop sweetness with a perfume that sneaks up on you.

Heather honey? Thick, almost spoon-standing, with earthy, woody bass notes.

Wildflower honey? A lucky dip of the countryside that somehow tastes like July.

Cut comb from your local beekeeper? Pure, waxy, melt-on-the-tongue bliss that makes supermarket squeezy bottles feel like a crime.

You begin to realise that bees are the original artisans and the beekeepers are the stewards, bottling up terroir that’s far more distinctive than most people ever give it credit for.

Crackers, Cheese, Wine: The Pairings You Never Knew You Needed

Once you’ve tasted honey on its own, you reach the inevitable next step: What can I put this on?

This is where it becomes dangerously fun.

Cracker Pairings

• Neutral water crackers: Perfect for tasting flights; they step aside and let the honey talk.

• Seeded oatcakes: Add texture and a savoury counterpoint — ideal with bolder honeys like dark wildflower or Scottish heather.

• Sourdough crackers: That slight tang sends floral honeys into another dimension.

Cheese Pairings

This is where honey goes from “nice” to “oh, that works far better than it should.”

• Soft goat’s cheese + light floral honey. Fresh, clean, bright. Imagine an English meadow at lunchtime.

• Strong cheddar + amber wildflower honey. The sweetness cuts through the sharpness in the same way a good chutney does — but better.

• Blue cheese + heather or chestnut honey. This pairing deserves its own fan club. The funk and the sweetness anchor each other beautifully.

Wine Pairings

• Sparkling wine (Prosecco, English sparkling). Pairs well with lighter honeys; cleans the palate between tastings.

• Sauvignon Blanc. Herbs and honey — a botanical duet.

• Port. A decadent match for heather honey or anything dark, resinous, or moody.

Before you know it, you’ve created a full tasting flight worthy of a vineyard — except the stars here have wings, antennae, and a slightly chaotic work ethic.

Why Provenance Matters (And Why Importing Cheap Honey Doesn’t Cut It)

In the UK, we import a huge percentage of the honey found on supermarket shelves. Much of it is ultra-filtered, blended, heated, homogenised, and so far removed from its origins that it may as well have been designed in a lab.

Local honey, on the other hand, comes with:

• A beekeeper’s name.

• A location.

• A story.

• A flavour that belongs to this soil, this season, these bees.

When you support local honey:

• You support beekeepers who are actively caring for pollinators.

• You help sustain local ecosystems where bees play a critical role.

• You preserve the biodiversity of honey itself — which is rapidly threatened by global blending and mass production.

• You get a far better product. Full stop.

People will happily pay £6 for a lukewarm drive-thru coffee, yet wince at paying the same for a jar of liquid gold that took 50,000 foraging flights. Odd behaviour, but we can fix it — one tasting flight at a time.

Host Your Own Honey Flight

All you need is:

• Three or more honeys with known provenance

• Crackers, cheeses, and (if you like) a bottle of something chilled

• A quiet moment to really taste

Line them up. Taste each one slowly. Discuss what you notice. Compare textures, aromas, and aftertastes. Capture your favourites. You’ll be amazed how much conversation a simple spoonful of honey generates.

Once you’ve done it, you’ll never look at honey the same way again.

And more importantly — you’ll never buy the cheap stuff again.

Because once you’ve tasted the real thing, you understand that bees deserve better, the craft deserves better, and UK beekeepers deserve people who can tell the difference.