Buckwheat Honey (Miel de sarrasin)

The Story

Buckwheat honey comes off a farm crop. The plant is grown as a grain – a broadleaf pseudo-cereal sown in June, covered in small white flowers from midsummer until the first killing frost – and the honey is made only where buckwheat was planted that year. Beekeepers set their hives beside the flowering fields, and the farmers want them there: without bees, a buckwheat crop sets almost no seed. The honey is made where the crop is grown, and there is only as much honey as there is crop.

The crop was once large. In 1918 Canada seeded more than half a million acres of buckwheat, most of it in Quebec, Ontario and New Brunswick, and the dark honey from those fields was an ordinary part of the trade: many beekeepers left it in the hive as winter feed for their bees, Toronto’s markets priced it a cent or two under white honey, and the 1909 Toronto Exhibition gave it classes of its own. The planting shrank to a few tens of thousands of acres. The honey is unchanged; it is now scarce, it sells at a premium, and jars sell out between harvests – sellers in both languages state this on their own product pages.

The honey itself is near-black, with a malt and molasses flavour, and less sweet than most honey. Its producers call it polarizing in their own listings. English labels read buckwheat; Quebec labels read miel de sarrasin; and the grade on the label reads Amber on one jar and Dark on another, because the honey falls at the boundary of Canada’s two darkest colour classes.

Characteristics

A very dark honey – brown-black in the jar, with red glints where light passes through – and thick when liquid. The aroma is strong, malty and earthy, and it can be smelled as soon as the jar is opened. The flavour runs to molasses and dark malt, less sweet than most honey, with a bitter edge and a long finish that stays at the back of the throat. It goes solid with coarse, grainy crystals, turning matte and slightly lighter in colour; producers disagree on how quickly this happens, so treat the speed as batch-dependent. In Canadian grading it falls in the two darkest colour classes, labeled Amber by some producers and Dark by others.

Click to Display — The Details: botanical origin, sensory profile, pairings, health and what gives it its character

Botanical Name: Common buckwheat (Fagopyrum esculentum)

Botanical Family: Polygonaceae

Bee Species:

Apis mellifera, the western honey bee, produces every Canadian jar of this honey. No bee native to Canada makes honey at all.

On buckwheat, the bees work only the morning. The flowers open around eight in the morning and give nectar through the morning only; the flow slackens toward noon, and by afternoon the bees have left the field for whatever else is in bloom. The morning hours are enough: a colony beside a flowering field can store ten to fifteen pounds of honey in a day, and one beekeeper of the 1909 crop reported that his apiary “just roared for about five days.”

Color:

Very dark brown to near-black, with red to purple glints in the light

Flavor Profile:

Malty and molasses-rich, earthy, less sweet than most honey, with a bitter edge at the finish

Tasting Notes:

Molasses is the word nearly every Canadian seller uses, in both languages – gout rappelant la melasse in Quebec, a molasses-like flavour in Ontario and Manitoba – and malt comes second. Ontario producers add chocolate and black cherries; a Northern Ontario jar is sold as smokey-malty-coffee-molasses; Quebec sellers add caramelized nuts, dried prunes, cereal and musk. The finish is long, and several accounts place it at the back of the throat – a faint, lingering catch one producer describes as leaving a tickle.

Buyers split over this honey, and the producers say so themselves. A Winnipeg seller puts it plainly: people that like it love it, and if you don’t like it you really don’t like it. People who dislike it describe wet straw and barnyard; people who love it compare it to dark beer – two producers independently call it the Guinness of honeys – and the University of Guelph’s research centre tasters described an aged jar as dark licorice and lightly burnt molasses, and called it a premium honey.

Aroma:

Strong, malty and earthy, with a pungent note some describe as barnyard

Defining Compounds:

The same compounds produce the colour and the flavour. Buckwheat honey is unusually rich in phenolic compounds: in the study that compared seven floral sources, the darkest honeys – buckwheat above all – showed the highest antioxidant readings, and the more phenolic compounds a honey contained, the higher it scored. The concentration is distinctive enough that a McGill food-authenticity laboratory identifies buckwheat honey by its phenolic markers when filtration has removed the pollen. The aroma has its own named chemistry: malty aldehydes – 3-methylbutanal and 2-methylbutanal – alongside isovaleric acid, the short-chain acid that gives the barnyard note. Heating and filtering take more from this honey than from most: one study measured a third of its antioxidant capacity lost in processing, which is part of why Canadian jars are so often sold raw.

Forage Origin:

Common buckwheat (Fagopyrum esculentum, Polygonaceae) is grown and handled like a grain, though the plant is kin to rhubarb and sorrel rather than to wheat. The name comes from the seed: it is three-sided like a small beechnut, and Middle Dutch called it boecweite, beech wheat – the word English borrowed. The French name, sarrasin, is the old word for Saracen, given to the dark grain. Breton settlers carried the crop to New France in the 1600s, and Pierre Boucher was already recording in 1664 that frost sometimes killed the crop before it ripened.

The plant makes far more flowers than seeds. A field sown in June is white with bloom from midsummer and flowers until a killing frost, but each flower holds a single ovule, and as many as 88 percent set no seed. Buckwheat flowers come in two forms, a plant carries only one of them, and a flower makes seed only when pollen reaches it from the other form. The pollen does not travel on the wind, so insects must carry it. A field without bees yields two to three percent of a normal seed crop, which is why Ontario’s field-crop guide advises growers that an arrangement with an apiarist will be of mutual benefit.

Where the crop grows has shifted twice. It began as an eastern crop – Quebec, Ontario and New Brunswick held most of the half-million-acre peak of 1918 – then was planted heavily a second time, on the prairies, where the federal research station at Morden, Manitoba bred large-seeded varieties for the Japanese soba trade: Mancan in 1974, then varieties given Japanese names – Koban, Koto, Koma – for the market they were bred to sell in. Today Quebec is the largest Canadian grower, Ontario grows smaller plantings, including a belt in the northeast whose crop goes to Toronto packers, Manitoba seeds a few thousand acres in the Parkland and Pembina Valley, and New Brunswick sows small fields on the Chaleur coast and in the Madawaska.

Two relatives to set aside. Tartary buckwheat, grown historically for feed and now a listed weed in western Canada, is self-fertile, seldom visited by bees, and yields no honey – a 1951 American Bee Journal note is titled “No honey from Tartary buckwheat.” Wild buckwheat is a twining field weed in the same family that gives no honey. All Canadian buckwheat honey is common buckwheat honey.

Pairings:

It is used where molasses is used. Quebec producers sell it as a molasses substitute – pain d’epices, gingerbread, the galette – and it survives baking that would drive off a pale honey’s flavour. An Ottawa producer suggests it stirred into lemon tea, brushed over roasted meats, baked into honey cake, or taken by the spoonful, and pairs it with a hardy Stilton; other sellers pair it with aged cheese and dark chocolate. Producers observe that buyers who drink dark beer or strong coffee usually like it at once.

Health Uses:

Buckwheat honey was the honey used in one widely cited modern study. A 2007 Pennsylvania pediatric trial gave children with night-time coughs a single bedtime dose of buckwheat honey, a honey-flavoured cough syrup, or nothing: parents rated the honey best, the honey outperformed no treatment on cough frequency, and the syrup did no better than no treatment on any measure. The study was small, single-dose and parent-scored; the National Honey Board was a collaborator; and later trials found similar results with other honeys – the finding concerns honey generally, demonstrated first with this one.

Origin Story

The record of this honey begins in the founding journal of Canadian beekeeping. The Canadian Bee Journal, published from 1885 at Beeton, Ontario – the village renamed for D.A. Jones’s bees – mentions buckwheat in roughly two of every three digitized issues. In its pages Ontario beekeepers debate whether clover or buckwheat honey is the better winter feed to leave in the hive (Allen Pringle of Selby left his bees eighty percent buckwheat honey and reported “no fears as to the result”), send wagon-loads of hives to “a buckwheat district” for the fall harvest, and in 1889 discuss whether to give a neighbouring farmer free seed for twenty acres of buckwheat. Pringle answered that he would give the seed for fifty acres if the farmer wanted it.

Beekeepers thought well of the honey; the market paid less for it. At the provincial association’s 1895 convention Pringle called it “a good, pure, legitimate, healthy and praiseworthy article” that “does not get the same price” as white honey, and the members described its market: a production belt along the north shore of Lake Erie, and loyal buyers to the east. One member reported Quebec customers who, offered pure white clover honey, “say that is sugar.” Toronto’s 1903 market columns priced buckwheat extracted honey a cent or two under light honey and reported it almost unsaleable in a February column; by 1909 the Toronto Exhibition gave the honey its own show classes, and the province’s beekeepers ran a formal buckwheat honey crop-and-price committee from the Exhibition grounds.

The historian Jennifer Bonnell, working through the association records and the apicultural press of the Great Lakes region, shows those beekeepers were part of a larger effort: as land clearing removed basswood and other forage trees in the late nineteenth century, beekeepers promoted nectar-bearing cover crops – alsike and sweet clover, alfalfa, and buckwheat – and sowed honey plants along roadsides. The 1889 seed exchange was part of that campaign. What ended it was a change in agriculture: citing the Ontario provincial apiarist’s own history, Bonnell records that postwar continuous corn and roadside spraying removed most of the old bee pasture, and Ontario buckwheat, which covered 300,000 acres in 1929, was “almost nonexistent” by 1961.

The prairie crop served a different market. Ukrainian settlers had brought buckwheat to Manitoba for their own tables; the Morden breeding program bred the export crop, and Manitoba seeded 135,000 acres in 1979. A Morden agronomist told the national beekeeping congress in 1970 that a good buckwheat honey then “sells for a price equal to No. 1 white honey.” The Japan trade later went to growers in Washington state, whose freight to Japan costs about two hundred dollars a tonne less, and the acreage moved east again.

Beekeepers still plant buckwheat for this honey. A Laurentians farm documented in 2011 sowed a hectare and a half of buckwheat in succession, hives placed mid-field, expressly to make a fall honey, and Ontario producers describe the same partnership around cover-crop plantings. No source connects these plantings to the seed-giving beekeepers of 1889, and this page does not.

Cultural Context

The plant’s strongest Canadian food tradition is in French Canada. In Quebec the galette de sarrasin was settlers’ and loggers’ food, and it kept that reputation: Seraphin, the most famous miser in Quebec fiction, would not allow butter on his household’s buckwheat galettes, and for a generation of radio and television audiences the galette meant hard times. Louiseville, on the flood lands of Lac Saint-Pierre, set out to reverse that. Its Festival de la Galette de Sarrasin, founded in 1978 out of a church-hall supper called the Souper des Gueux – the beggars’ supper – now draws more than a hundred thousand people each October; the town calls itself le pays du sarrasin and carries the buckwheat flower on its coat of arms. In New Brunswick’s Madawaska valley the same flour is cooked into ployes, the buckwheat pancake served, by one historian’s account, three times a day in most households for a century.

The traditional dressings for galettes and ployes are molasses, maple, butter and cretons; honey is not among them. Pairing the honey with them is recent, and it comes from a producer rather than from the tradition: a Lac-Saint-Jean producer now sells its miel de sarrasin as the molasses substitute for pain d’epices and for the galette itself.

In English Canada the honey’s food culture is mostly a baking tradition. Anita Stewart – Canada’s first food laureate, at the University of Guelph – put a honey cake calling for two cups of robust buckwheat honey in her national cookbook, and the Ontario Beekeepers’ Association reprinted the recipe in its own marketing kit. On the prairies the honey has long-standing buyers: Winnipeg producers note it is traditionally prized in Slavic, Eastern European and Jewish communities – the same settler communities that brought the crop to Manitoba.

Harvest & Forage

The season is set by the farmer, not the beekeeper. Buckwheat goes into the ground in early June, comes into flower five to six weeks later, and keeps flowering until a killing frost – so the flow runs from midsummer into fall, and the buckwheat harvest can be the last of a beekeeper’s year. Quebec producers name fixed dates: one Lac-Saint-Jean apiary harvests its fall honey on the 31st of August; another waits until October.

The flow is large, and it swings with the weather. An acre in full bloom can yield up to 150 pounds of honey in a season; warm mornings bring the nectar on, hot dry spells cut it off. Because the flowers give nectar only in the morning, the bees spend the afternoon on whatever else is in bloom, and by late August that is goldenrod and aster. The two flows overlap rather than follow one another, and a jar of late-season buckwheat honey commonly contains goldenrod nectar as well; one Quebec bottler lists exactly that on its label page.

A clean crop is a matter of placement and timing. Producers set hives in the middle of the field rather than at its edge – bees forage within about three kilometres, and a mid-field yard keeps the buckwheat share high – and harvest as soon as the flow ends. One Manitoba commercial beekeeper stacks one box on the hive for the buckwheat weeks and harvests that box separately. Where a beekeeper cannot say exactly what the bees mixed in, the label says so: one Winnipeg market stall has sold its jars as Buckwheat and Blossoms since 1990.

A pollen count proves less for this honey than for most. Buckwheat pollen is not under-represented in honey, and a jar sold as pure buckwheat is conventionally expected to show about 45 percent buckwheat pollen – 30 to 45, depending on the standard – but surveyed jars sold as buckwheat run from four percent to just over fifty, because the plant’s two flower forms shed pollen unequally. Filtration can remove the pollen entirely: a McGill survey found fifteen of 167 Canadian commercial honeys carried no pollen at all. The same laboratory identifies buckwheat honey instead by its phenolic compounds, with complete accuracy in its published test – and found reason to doubt the labels on ten to twenty percent of samples, with the researcher’s own caution that a producer cannot know exactly where the bees foraged. As in 1895, what stands behind a buckwheat label is the beekeeper’s word.

Frost ends the season. How much honey there is depends on how much buckwheat was sown. Buckwheat acreage shifts with grain prices and contracts, and in a year the local fields are not sown there is no local buckwheat honey. Producers state this on their own pages – available occasionally, not available this year, a rare seasonal harvest.

Beekeeping Context

This honey is produced two different ways. On the prairies it is a commercial crop honey: Manitoba’s agriculture department lists buckwheat among the province’s principal honey crops, commercial beekeepers move colonies onto the fields after canola finishes, and the recommendation from Manitoba research is one colony per acre. Most of that honey leaves the province in bulk – less than a fifth of Manitoba’s crop stays in the province – and most of the dark honey is blended away: the prairie co-op packer sells no buckwheat jar of its own, naming buckwheat only as one source of its amber blend, and one of the province’s most awarded producers sells its buckwheat in 55-gallon drums while keeping it out of its retail jars. On the growers’ side, the association’s production manual records southern Manitoba beekeepers worried that shrinking buckwheat acreage will cut their honey harvest, and the association has been assembling a public list of buckwheat honey sellers.

In the east the same honey is a named varietal from family apiaries. Ontario and Quebec producers bottle it under its own name in everything from 45-gram minis to three-kilogram pails, creamed versions included, and packers in the Toronto area buy dark honey from the northeastern Ontario belt and bottle it for the specialty trade. Manitoba’s association guidance allows floral-specific honeys like buckwheat a premium over the base price, and eastern price lists show it: an Ontario farm gate lists buckwheat three dollars a kilogram over its clover.

Both depend on the farmer. The crop needs the bees to set seed, the beekeeper needs the fields for the honey, and Canadian extension literature has told both sides the same thing for decades: an arrangement with an apiarist will be of mutual benefit.

Source Regions

  • Canada, Quebec - Fagopyrum esculentum: Buckwheat honey (Miel de sarrasin): bottled from Lac-Saint-Jean to the Bas-Saint-Laurent and sold even in mainstream grocery stores; Quebec is also now the largest buckwheat-growing province.
  • Canada, Ontario - Fagopyrum esculentum: Buckwheat honey: jars sold under the buckwheat name by family apiaries across the south, and a producing belt in the northeast around New Liskeard whose honey is bottled by Toronto-area specialty packers.
  • Canada, Manitoba - Fagopyrum esculentum: Buckwheat honey: one of the province’s listed principal honey crops; most of the honey is sold in bulk and blended, with named jars from Ethelbert, Winnipeg and Starbuck.
  • Canada, New Brunswick - Fagopyrum esculentum: Buckwheat honey (Miel de sarrasin): one Chaleur-coast producer bottles honey from local buckwheat fields, labeled in both English and French.

Translations

  • Miel de sarrasin – French; the name on every Quebec label