Food & Drink
Tasting Terroir
Finding new meaning—
and the essence of
taste—in local flavor
They say that harvesting honey in your
kitchen can test your marriage, and I
must agree. After pulling 10 frames from
our backyard beehive, spinning them in
a metal centrifuge, collecting the slow-dripping honey through a spigot into a
plastic tub and then pouring it into glass
jars—all while my sneakers were sticking to the tacky, honey-covered floor—I
wasn’t just ready to divorce my husband;
I was ready to murder him.
But when we spread a spoonful on our
toast the next morning? It was delicious,
like sunshine, light and golden. The best
we’d ever tasted.
After all, we planted the fruit trees that
nourished the bees. We tended the hives
as they swelled with honey. We knew
where that food came from, down to the
square foot and sticky tiles.
The French have a wine term for this
“of the place” flavor: terroir. It factors in
all kinds of characteristics and circumstances between grape and glass—the
location of the vineyard, the climate, the
soil—to describe the essence of the wine.
But saying something tastes better just
because it’s farm-to-table—even back-yard-to-kitchen—is getting tiresome.
Would you be able to taste the difference
between our honey and that of my beekeeping friends 10 miles away? Doubtful.
I still think discussing terroir, the
essence of a taste, is valid, but I also
believe the word can mean something
more than how the food was grown. You
can experience terroir by being in the
place your food comes from or by under-
standing the tradition of the regional food
you’re tasting. Or you can experience it by
sharing in the food community.
Taste the Region
As food editor for The Journal News, a
newspaper in the Lower Hudson Valley, I
pay close attention to what farm-to-table
chefs are putting on their menus, and I
notice a lot of the same farm names pop-
ping up time after time. I can taste the
unique flavors in some of these products,
especially hyperlocal ones such as Rain-
beau Ridge goat cheese from Bedford,
N. Y., and Wild Hive Farm polenta from
Clinton Corners, N. Y., but I don’t think I
BRIAN DAugH TON/ge T TY ImAges
