Dandelions are also known as piss-a-beds. I have no idea what the chemical or folklore connection might be, but when I lifted the lid on my pot of dandelion honey I got a powerful whiff of ammonia. It’s not an auspicious beginning for a honey tasting.
Actually, that’s not fair – the very beginning was extremely auspicious, because one’s appreciation of a honey starts with the visual impression, and this is a beauty. It’s a bright yellow the colour of… well, exactly.
As well as its colour its consistency is also appealing – it’s a languid kind of opaque runny honey – but I still took some convincing to try the taste of something with a smell like old nappies. When I was finally brave enough the taste was quite a surprise, reminiscent of chamomile. The honey isn’t particularly sweet, and it’s cool on the palate, leaving a strange almost oily residue. This is less a honey than an experience.
I can’t honestly believe I will ever reach for this pot to spread it on toast, lick it off a spoon or drizzle it over anything, but I can imagine that the taste will combine well to make something like a salad dressing, where very sweet honeys can be egregious. And it would be no bad thing for that aroma to be mixed with some vinegar before it’s brought to table.
One hundred days of honey 
Very interesting! Where did you get this honey from?
I bought it at the Terra Madre festival in Italy from the wonderful Mielithun company (see my post about their fabulous carob honey here). You can find their honeys at http://www.mielithun.it/miele-tarassaco-e.htm
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