(Cat provided for perspective.)
Yesterday I joined a local walking group for a 10-kilometer jaunt through countryside that is as rural as it gets in Portugal. The views were splendid, despite — and in some ways because of — the massive wildfire that burned this area last year. I was happily startled by just how much regrowth has already occurred.
Our path led us through a tiny hamlet, where a farmer has been known to have honey for sale in the past. She and her aged mother came out to see us as we passed through, and sure enough, she had honey to sell. I asked her what type it was — orange flowers, native lavender — but she looked at me like I was insane and rattled off a whole list of wildflowers. Obviously, real farmers don’t truck their hives around to produce specialized honey. They just let their bees forage.
So for five euros I was handed a liter jar of the freshest honey you can buy, which weighed down my pack for the rest of the walk. It was a price I was willing to pay. When I got home I dipped in for a taste, and YUM. We’ll have to buy some fresh cheese in order to properly appreciate this flavor.
I love win/win situations like this. Our group gave that farmer an unexpected income, which was surely very welcome, and now my cupboard is housing a glowing jar of flavor.
(For those who didn’t get the pun in the title, check out this video.)