We went to the house of the Honey Family, Chez Honey, for an afternoon coffee.
Mr. & Mrs. Honey are both very friendly and inviting but have zero English, which is fine, I’m in their territory. But It’s the thick Southern French accents spoken a mile (sorry, a kilometer) a minute, and usually at the same time, that gets me. I do a lot of smiling and nodding at Chez Honey. Luckily, the smiling is easy because although they don’t speak English, they have international charm.
I like going to Chez Honey. I never know what curious thing will be brought out for my amusement, whether it’s Mr. Honey’s toy chipmunk collection or a large plate of unpasteurized cheese (you’ll thank me for not going into the details of how that turned out). This time it was Mrs. Honey’s homemade alcohol.
The first large bottle (like Champagne magnum big) had darkening leaves floating inside. This was the mint. Mrs. Honey explained how she leaves the bottle in a dark cupboard for six to eight weeks to let the fermenting process take hold. I opened the bottle, ran it under my nose and inhaled deeply… WOWZA! Any stuffy nose I may have had was definitely taken care of and I’m sure any future winter colds are now null and void.
And then another large bottle appeared. This one was the genipi alcohol.
Mr. & Mrs. Honey are both very friendly and inviting but have zero English, which is fine, I’m in their territory. But It’s the thick Southern French accents spoken a mile (sorry, a kilometer) a minute, and usually at the same time, that gets me. I do a lot of smiling and nodding at Chez Honey. Luckily, the smiling is easy because although they don’t speak English, they have international charm.
I like going to Chez Honey. I never know what curious thing will be brought out for my amusement, whether it’s Mr. Honey’s toy chipmunk collection or a large plate of unpasteurized cheese (you’ll thank me for not going into the details of how that turned out). This time it was Mrs. Honey’s homemade alcohol.
And Mr. Honey got that twinkle in his eye that seems to mean one thing… uh-oh.
What happened to the coffee???
The first large bottle (like Champagne magnum big) had darkening leaves floating inside. This was the mint. Mrs. Honey explained how she leaves the bottle in a dark cupboard for six to eight weeks to let the fermenting process take hold. I opened the bottle, ran it under my nose and inhaled deeply… WOWZA! Any stuffy nose I may have had was definitely taken care of and I’m sure any future winter colds are now null and void.
And then another large bottle appeared. This one was the genipi alcohol.
Where the mint had finished it’s fermentation and was ready to drink, the genipi was not. You’d think that would stop us from drinking it, it didn’t.
We sat sipping from our emptied expresso cups. Very warm and herby. And I say warm because even though I was taking baby sips of an espresso cup amount, my whole being felt warm, like having a little furnace inside me, warm. Realizing the genipi could easily lead me down a dangerous path for a Sunday afternoon, I finished the bit in my cup and politely refused the refill, and the offer of whisky, wine and pastis.
It’s 4pm on a Sunday for heavens sake!
And I have stuff to do.
So I went home, made myself a coffee, and googled ‘how to make homemade alcohol.’
bisou
It's Me, Sara Louise 
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