Tart heather honey charms some gourmets literally right away. There are also those who cannot stand the bitter taste of heather honey. However, true connoisseurs in the UK value this honey so highly that it has been given the name “honey Rolls-Royce”.

The origin of this honey is already clear from the name: bees make heather honey from nectar, which they take from the branchy evergreen shrub of the common heather. This plant grows in the tundra, pine forests, peat bogs, burnt areas, and sands. As a rule, this honey plant is found in Ukraine, Western European countries, Siberia, the European part of Russia, the Azores and Asia Minor, and even in the north and west of Africa. However, the largest moorlands (which are huge thickets formed with other specific species of the genus Erica) are found in Scotland. Heather fields there account for approximately 75% of heathland worldwide.

Robert Louis Stevenson, glorifying heather honey in his ballad of the same name, wrote a beautiful legend. It says that the ancient Picts brewed an intoxicating drink from heather honey, which was capable of giving strength and youth. Monk Adam, also a famous Polish beekeeper, believed that heather honey is a true gift of nature. Because this honey contains many substances that are completely absent or present in extremely small quantities in other beekeeping products.

An indescribable aroma is the first thing that attracts you to heather honey. At the same time, its taste is tart and even slightly bitter. A fairly strong aftertaste remains after consumption. The color of heather honey can be dark yellow to yellow-red, and upon crystallization it acquires a reddish-brown hue. Some even compare heather honey to toffee in terms of its richness of taste. The taste of this honey becomes stronger and more expressive during long-term storage.

Heather honey contains a large amount of protein substances (about 2%), which is also its difference. This ensures that during long-term storage it does not crystallize, but takes on a jelly-like form. However, when stirred, honey again acquires a liquid appearance, but over time it thickens again. If such honey contains up to 10% pollen from other plants, the honey will not crystallize. If it contains at least 5% mustard pollen, then crystallization may begin.

It is quite easy to check heather honey for purity. To do this, you need to place an open jar of heather honey on its side, while calculating the speed at which it will flow out. For at least the first couple of minutes, pure honey will remain motionless. The rule is: the longer the heather honey is in the jar, the purer it will be. This type of honey is also distinguished by this feature - when the honey is pumped out, tiny bubbles are formed, giving a special shimmer to the product. When the honey is heated, bubbles begin to rise. And if they are not there, then the value of honey has deteriorated.

Composition and beneficial properties

Due to its specific taste, viscousness and slow crystallization, many beekeepers consider heather honey to be a lower grade. But this does not detract from its valuable properties. This honey is an excellent medicine for many diseases. Gout, rheumatism, dropsy of cardiac origin (which requires a diuretic) - these are all cases when the use of heather honey is recommended. It is no less effective for asthma, bronchitis, and infectious polyarthritis. Its use for diseases of the stomach and intestines is possible due to the unique composition of honey. Among its characteristics are excellent antimicrobial and anti-acid properties. Therefore, this product is recommended for people suffering from persistent diarrhea and low stomach acidity.

Heather honey can also be consumed if it is necessary to increase appetite or take a tonic. Heather honey has an effective effect on the nervous system: it copes excellently with excessive nervous excitability, insomnia, headaches, neurasthenia, convulsive conditions and hypochondria. Moreover, even one small spoon of this bee medicine, taken at night, can guarantee a sound and restful sleep.

External use of heather honey is justified if there is an inflammatory process in the oral mucosa: in this case, rinsing is needed. Heather honey is used and quite popular in cosmetology. You can use it to make face masks and all kinds of body scrubs.

Heather has a diuretic, diaphoretic, anti-inflammatory, disinfectant, astringent, sedative, hypnotic, wound-healing, expectorant, hemostatic, antimicrobial, anti-acid effect.

Infusion: 3 teaspoons crushed dry plant heather 400 ml of boiling water, leave for 2 hours, filter.
Take 100 ml 4 times a day for gout, gastrointestinal diseases accompanied by diarrhea (gastritis with high acidity of gastric juice, enteritis, etc.), as a sedative for increased nervous excitability, insomnia, hypochondria.
Used for rinsing for diseases of the mouth and throat, for baths for rheumatism.

Flower powder heather used externally to treat wounds, burns, eczema. Heather tea is used as a sedative and diuretic that promotes phlegm production.

In folk medicine, a decoction of flowering branches heather drink for rheumatism, colds, kidney stones, fear, nervous diseases, dysentery, make baths from it for rheumatism, swelling of the legs due to kidney and heart diseases, wash wounds with a decoction
boiled grass applied to bruised areas, fracture sites, tumors, and dislocations
flower powder sprinkle on festering wounds, burns, and areas affected by eczema.

Economic importance and beneficial properties heather quite large. This is a very beautiful plant and can be used to create flower beds and flower beds, and decorate lawns. It blooms from June to September, and sometimes until frost. Beekeepers can grow heather in apiaries as a honey plant. Its honey productivity is about 200 kg/ha. Culinary technologists have developed for us recipes for dozens of dietary dishes and drinks using heather.

Heather drink. For 1 glass of honey, take 3 handfuls of heather terminal branches with flowers, 1 handful of fireweed leaves, add 2 liters of water, bring to a boil and leave for 3 days. Drink cold.

Heather tea. Dip the end branches of heather with flowers (1 handful) and willow leaves (10 pcs.) into a pot of boiling water (2 l), leave for half an hour.

Flowers heather- 2 tablespoons, fireweed flowers - 1 tablespoon, bee honey (heather or herb) - 2 tablespoons, pour everything with 3 cups of boiling water and leave for 48 hours.

LEGEND

According to an ancient Scottish legend, this time the Picts were unlucky - they were completely defeated by the Scots, and the Scottish king decided to learn the secret of making a magic drink from the defeated people. The legend says that the king's demand to reveal the secret of heather honey was met with a decisive refusal, and the two surviving Picts were thrown from a cliff in the town of Mull of Galloway. However, historical facts indicate that this conquest (like many other conquests of those times) was, rather, not a bloody battle to the last man, but assimilation, the dissolution of the incoming tribe of warriors into the tribe of natives. Thus, many medieval British historians argued that the Scots “descended from the Picts and daughters of Hibernia,” i.e. Irish women. And because The Scots themselves were immigrants from Ireland, then we can conclude that the Picts actually merged with the arriving tribe. Some historians believe that this could have happened quite easily due to the fact that the Picts and Scots were related tribes. Proof of the latter statement is the fact that in Geoffrey's History of the Britons the Scots and Picts are constantly mentioned together as allies.

Therefore, although according to legend it is believed that the recipe for a magical drink from heather was lost back in those immemorial times, the facts force us to suspect the existing distortion of real events passed on from mouth to mouth in popular memory, and to conclude that, although all the ale recipe was lost, but this happened much later. Thus, in sources dating back to the 8th century AD, we find references to the Gallic Picts - the indigenous population of mountainous Scotland (the Gauls are the second (Roman) name of the Celtic tribe, and the Scots are one of the Celtic tribes), which once again tells us that the alliance between the Scots and Picts had become quite strong by this time. Mentions of heather ale as a favorite Welsh drink, found in many sources of that time, lead us to conclude that the Scots most likely adopted the tradition of making heather mead from the Picts.

According to some sources, the traditions of the ancient Pictish tribe were preserved until the 18th century - the time when Scotland was conquered by England, national traditions and customs were banned, and ale was officially allowed to be brewed only from hops and malt. Since that time, this wonderful drink, which restores strength well, seemed to be forgotten. However, here nature itself came to the aid of the ancient people. Gradually, the open confrontation between England and Scotland turned into a kind of partisan movement behind enemy lines, and England was powerless to impose its own order in the remote mountainous areas - the historical homeland of the Picts.

Many people believed that the secret of heather ale still lay somewhere in the Scottish outbacks. And finally, in 1986, an old family recipe for producing heather ale was found. The re-creator of an almost extinct tradition was Bruce Williams. So, in ancient times, to prepare heather ale, they used special ale malt, which was boiled together with the tops of heather branches to obtain a wort, to which fresh heather flowers were added, and then the whole mass was left to ferment for about 10-12 days. During the fermentation process, the heather gradually became darker, and the result was an intoxicating, oily drink of amber color, with a pleasant mild taste.

Reviving the tradition of heather brewing was truly a heroic effort. For a long time, Williams, searching privately, experimented with the time of collection and pre-treatment of plants in order to obtain a high-quality taste of the drink. It turned out that only the very tops of the heather are suitable for making ale for commercial purposes, because... Below, on tree-like stems, moss settles, which has a mild narcotic effect. The presence of this moss probably explains the effect that heather ale had on the Scots-Picts. As one legend says, at traditional evenings with songs and dances, when the Scots gathered around the fire, those who tried this drink experienced a feeling of mild euphoria, which allowed them to feel unity not only with the people around them, but also with all of nature.

Since 2000, heather ale has been produced on an industrial scale in Scotland at a brewery near Glasgow by Heather Ale Ltd. Thus, the tradition of making heather honey found a second life. And now, looking at the magnificent heather fields, delighting many people with their delicate flowers, we can safely say that one of the secrets of the heather - according to Scottish tradition, considered a repository of ancient secrets and the abode of mystical creatures - has been revealed.

Recently, while rereading the lines of my favorite poem: “The drink from heather was forgotten a long time ago, but it was sweeter than honey, drunker than wine...”, I caught myself thinking that I know practically nothing about this plant. Although in the classics (and in the adventure literature of the 19th century) the “heather moors of Scotland” are often mentioned. I heard something about numerous garden heathers, but in this case we are talking about ornamental shrubs with small flowers. And the production of drinks, especially “honey” ones, requires the presence of sufficiently juicy fruits. What is heather like in nature? Or is there usual authorial exaggeration in the text of the poems? I will be very grateful for the answer. The beautiful legend about this plant will also please you. Marina Samoilova, Nizhny Novgorod

Hello, dear Marina! Thank you for your kind words about the magazine and for your interesting question.

Indeed, “heather honey” is such a familiar, stable phrase that everyone has probably heard it. But few people know what is ahead

put this drink in reality. There are different opinions about him. There was even confusion in defining what it was.

Let's try to figure it out. Let's start with your letter. You say that “the production of drinks, especially honey drinks, requires the presence of sufficiently juicy fruits.” What about the famous mead? It is prepared from water, honey and hop cones. There are no juicy fruits in this recipe. Many are sure that the heather drink referred to in the poem is mead made from heather honey. Anyone who has tried mead knows that it is a sweetish, pleasant drink. The alcohol content in it depends on the preparation method. Mead with a very low alcohol content is given even to children (the poem specifically mentions that the drink was “drank by the whole family”).

Conscious “mistake”

Not everyone was satisfied with the comparison of the heather drink with simple mead. And there were reasons for this. In your letter you quote the lines of the Scottish ballad “Heather Honey”. Its author is Robert Stevenson, translation into Russian is by Samuel Marshak. The original ballad is called “Heather Ale”. Literally this translates as “Heather Ale”, or “Heather Beer”. Why did Marshak, a brilliant translator, allow such an “inaccuracy”?

And he did this quite deliberately. Stevenson's ballad was translated in 1941 - the beginning of the Great Patriotic War. The country needs works that appeal to courage and raise the patriotic spirit. In its content, the ballad has a patriotic meaning. To better understand what it says, let’s turn to the chroniclers.

The first mention of “heather honey” dates back to the 5th century AD. At that time, the territory of real Scotland was inhabited by its indigenous inhabitants - the Picts. In legends they are often mentioned as a tribe of dwarf people who live in caves. But they were a fairly developed people. He had his own king, his own fortresses. More than once the Picts had to repel attacks from neighboring Anglo-Saxon tribes. The Picts could also resist the forces of the powerful Roman Empire. It is noted that the Picts instilled fear in their opponents. It was believed that these little dwarf people had some mystical power. They get it from a mysterious potion - heather ale, which is brewed according to a special recipe.

The events that the ballad narrates took place during the war with the Scots. This time the Picts were unlucky: the enemies were stronger. The cruel Scottish king decided to learn the secret of making a magical drink from the defeated people. The legend says that the demand to reveal the secret of heather honey was met with a decisive refusal by the Picts. For this, the Scottish king ordered the merciless execution of all Picts, including women and children. Two survived - father and son. Under threat of death, they kept the sacred secret of their drink and were thrown off a cliff.

Honey or beer?

So, we remembered the content of the legend, its high patriotic meaning. And yet, why did Marshak inaccurately translate its name and replace heather ale (beer) with heather honey? There is a completely logical explanation. Beer is an alcoholic drink and somehow does not go well with patriotism. “Heather honey” sounds more poetic. Thus, it was possible to exclude the alcohol topic.

One can argue with this decision. During the Great Patriotic War, front-line soldiers were given 100 grams precisely to raise morale, which was only beneficial for the defense of the Fatherland. But this is in Russia! This is our “national drink”! (We are, of course, talking about alcohol or vodka.) But for the ancient Picts, their “heather honey” was also a national drink. That’s why they guarded the recipe for its preparation so courageously.

What's in it?

And again we are faced with a contradiction. Was any drink worth such terrible sacrifices?

Sorry for the comparison, but in our “national drink” it’s all about the degrees (at least 40!). What about heather ale? If we assume that it was beer, then it has a maximum of 9-12 degrees. How long did it take to prepare it to raise morale?!

Or is heather ale really a drink that has some incredible power?

The popular modern film about Asterix and the Obelisk involuntarily comes to mind. These are two friends from a tiny Gaul village, which alone did not submit to the Roman Caesar. And the whole secret is in the miracle potion. When the Gauls drank it, they became fearless, unusually strong and invincible. By analogy, we can assume that heather ale also had some kind of “magical” property.

Let's keep the secret sacred

For a long time it was believed that the recipe for the wonderful drink died along with the last ancient Picts. But it rarely happens in history when something good disappears without a trace. Probably not all residents were executed. The process of making heather ale was passed down from mouth to mouth.

The stories have survived to this day. From individual information a complete picture emerged. It turns out that this drink is indeed similar to beer. It was brewed from the tops of heather shoots. The recipe has now been completely restored. Heather ale has a pleasant soft taste.

But there is one subtlety. If you cut the tops of the heather a little longer, the taste and properties of this drink change radically. It acquires a mild narcotic effect. This occurs due to the fact that moss grows on the woody stems of heather. It is this that gives the drink its special qualities.

Probably, the effect of excitement that heather ale caused helped the Picts to resist their enemies. Now it’s clear why the Picts treasured the recipe for their elixir so sacredly: it’s scary if a ruthless enemy suddenly takes possession of the drug that increases strength. More than one tribe could be under threat. Without exaggeration, it would be a catastrophe on a global scale.

It must be said that to prepare “that same” drink from heather, not only its components are important, but also the timing of collecting the raw materials, the method of brewing, and the fermentation time. Modern heather ale is brewed from the youngest shoots of heather (no longer than 5 cm). During its production there are no conditions that lead to the occurrence of narcotic effects.

And most importantly, because of this effect, the secret of the ancient drink has not yet been disclosed. We will also keep the secret, and we will use the heathers only as beautiful ornamental plants.

From the photograph you can judge what heathers look like in nature, in the forests of the Moscow region. In the next issues of the magazine we will talk about varietal heathers. Don't miss it, it will be interesting.

Prepared material

Natalia Petrenko

You can find this article in the magazine "Magic Garden" 2010 No. 2.

Original text

Heather Ale: a Galloway Legend. Robert Louis Stevenson

From the bonny bells of heather
They brewed a drink long-syne,
Was sweeter far than honey,
Was stronger far than wine.
They brewed it and they drank it,
And lay in a blessed swound
For days and days together
In their dwellings underground.

There's a rose a king in Scotland,
A fell man to his foes,
He smote the Picts in battle,
He hunted them like roes.
Over miles of the red mountain
He hunted as they fled
And strewed the dwarfish bodies
Of the dying and the dead.

Summer came in the country
Red was the heather bell;
But the manner of the brewing
Was no one alive to tell.
In graves that were like children"s
On many a mountain head,
The Brewsters of the Heather
Lay numbered with the dead.

Heather beer, translation by Nikolai Chukovsky, 1935

They tore the hard red heather
And they cooked it
Beer is stronger than the strongest wines,
Sweeter than honey itself.
They drank this beer, drank it
And for many days afterwards
In the darkness of underground dwellings
They fell asleep peacefully.

But the Scottish king came,
Merciless for enemies
He defeated the Picts
And he drove them like goats.
Along steep crimson cliffs
He followed them
And scattered it everywhere
Piles of dwarf bodies.

Summer again, heather again
All in bloom - but how can it be,
The living don't know how to
Brew some sweet beer?
In children's little graves
Over the hill and under the hill
Everyone who knew how to brew beer
They sleep forever in a dead sleep.

Here is the king of the crimson field
Jumps into the stifling summer heat,
He hears the buzz of well-fed bees,
The stump of birds above you.
He is sullen and dissatisfied.
What could be sadder -
Rule the heather kingdom,
Don't drink sweet beer.
The vassals gallop after him
Through the heather. Suddenly they look:
Behind a huge gray stone
Two dwarfs are sitting.
So they are being chased and captured.
Finally captured
The last two dwarfs -
A son and an old father with him.

The king himself approaches them
And looks at the kids -
On the gnarled, blackish
Frail little people.
He leads them straight to the sea,
On the rock, and says: - I
I will give you life for the secret,
The secret of sweet drinks.

Son and father stand and watch:
The edge of heaven is wide and high.
The heather is burning hot,
The sea splashes at your feet.
And the father suddenly asks
In a sharp, thin voice:
- Allow me to quietly
Whisper with the king.

Life is worth a lot for an old man,
Shame is worth nothing.
I'll tell you a secret -
The old dwarf speaks.
The voice is thin, like a sparrow,
Whispers quietly in silence:
- I'll tell you a secret,
Only my son is scared.

Life is not worth much for the young,
Death costs nothing
I would open everything, but I’m ashamed
I'm ashamed of my son.
You tie him tighter
And throw yourself into the abyss of water!
Then I will reveal the secret,
What my poor family kept.

So they tied up their son,
I screwed my neck to my heels,
And they threw him straight into the water,
In the waves the raging tide.
And the sea devoured him,
And stayed on the rock
Only the old father is the last
Dwarf Pict throughout the land.

I was only afraid of my son,
Because, you know yourself,
It's hard to feel trust
To the beardless brave men.
Now prepare the torture.
I won't give anything away
And he will die with me forever
The secret of sweet drinks.

Heather Honey: A Scottish Ballad. Translation by S.Ya.Marshak

Drink from heather
Forgotten a long time ago.
And he was sweeter than honey,
Drunker than wine.

They lied to him in the cauldrons
And the whole family drank
Baby honey makers
In caves underground.

The Scottish king has come,
Merciless towards enemies
He drove the poor Picts
To the rocky shores

On the heather field,
On the battlefield
Lying alive on the dead
And the dead - on the living.

Summer has arrived in the country
The heather is blooming again,
But there's no one to cook
Heather honey.

In their cramped graves,
In the mountains of my native land
Baby honey makers
We found shelter for ourselves.

The king rides down the slope
Above the sea on horseback,
And seagulls are flying nearby
On par with the road.

The king looks gloomily:
"Again in my land
Honey heather blooms,
But I don’t drink honey!”

But here are his vassals
Noticed two
The last mead makers,
Survivors.

They came out from under the stone,
Squinting into the white light, -
Old hunchbacked dwarf
And a boy of fifteen years old.

To the steep seashore
They were brought in for questioning
But none of the prisoners
Didn't say a word.

The Scottish king sat
Without moving in the saddle,
And the little people
They stood on the ground.

The king said angrily:
Torture awaits both
If you don't tell me, devils,
How did you prepare the honey?

The son and father were silent,
Standing at the edge of a cliff.
The heather rang above them,
Waves were rolling into the sea...

Old age is afraid of death.
I will buy life with treason,
I'll reveal my treasured secret! -
The dwarf said to the king.

The boy doesn't care about life
He doesn't care about death.
Should I sell my conscience
He will be ashamed to be with him.

Let him be tied tightly
And they will be thrown into the depths of the waters,
And I will teach the Scots
Making ancient honey!

Strong Scottish warrior
The boy was tied tightly
And threw it into the open trash
From the coastal cliffs.

The waves closed over him.
The last cry died down.
And he answered with an echo
From the cliff the old father:

I told the truth, the Scots,
I expected trouble from my son.
I didn’t believe in the resilience of the young,
Not shaving their beards.

And I'm not afraid of the fire.
Let him die with me
My holy secret -
My heather honey!

Vereskovy El Lastochkin A.Yu. 2009
(site http://www.lastochkin.ru/las/index.html)

Of heather bells
Ancient ale was brewed,
It was even sweeter than honey,
He was even drunker than wine,
They cooked and drank together,
Blissful in oblivion
In the underground dwellings of Pict
And days passed after day.

The king came to Scotland,
Slaying his enemies.
He defeated the Picts in battle
And he started hunting for them.
Miles from the copper-red mountains
It was like a roe deer was exterminating them,
Their bodies lay everywhere
Who died, who died.

Summer has come in the country,
The color of the heather has become red,
But those who know the recipes
How ale is brewed - no more.
In small ones, like children's ones,
their mountain graves
Heather Hawkmoths lay
Death has counted them all.

King on the red field
Jumps on a fine day
The bees are buzzing and the bird
It's like a pipe crying in the grass.
The king and anger gallop
A shadow casts a shadow on the forehead:
"Rule the land of heather
And don’t try the ale!”

There is luck here: vassals,
Among the heather valleys
Found a fallen stone
And two ragamuffins under him.
When they were brought out
Didn't say a word
The old man and the boy are the last
From a small people.

Sitting in the saddle, he frowned
King on dwarfs eyebrow
And pathetic dark people
They saw him again.
He dragged them down to the shore,
Placed on a terrible cliff:
"You bastard, save your lives,
Having revealed the secret of the drink!

Son and father stood
One is slightly higher than the other
The crimson heather bloomed around,
Wave after wave rolled in.
The old man suddenly perked up
His voice was squeaky and quiet:
"Give me a worthy word
Only your royal ears!"

"Life is dear to the elderly,
But I don’t value honor.
I'll be happy to tell you the secret."
Said the Pict to the King
His voice is like a sparrow
It sounds piercingly clear:
"I will gladly reveal the secret,
My son only scares me!"

"Life is a trivial thing
And death is of no concern to the young,
I'm ready to sell my conscience
But so that my son does not see.
Grab, tie and give
The abyss will swallow him up
And I'll tell you a secret,
Which I swore to keep!"

The guy's servant took him and strapped him
Tied from neck to toes,
Then he swung and threw
Into the seething foam near the rocks.
The sea immediately hid the boy,
And standing looking at the water,
From the cliff the old man is the last
From a small people.

"My words were true
My son just scared me!
Who doesn't wear a beard?
He wouldn’t have shown any perseverance!
But the torture was in vain,
There's no use in the fire now
Let the mystery die with me
My Heather Ale"

Heather beer Translation by E. Tarasov

From the color of wild heather
In the old days
Brewed beer sweeter
Honey and stronger than wine.
After getting drunk, we fell asleep
Blissfully sweet sleep
And slept days and nights
In basements under the floor.

King of Scotland
He carried it to enemies everywhere.
Having defeated the Picts, he drove them away,
Like a herd of wild goats.
Through the heights of mountains and steppes
They were chased by their running
Strewing the path with bodies
Killed and maimed.

And in the summer the heather glowed
In the open spaces of the fields,
But who brewed the drink?
Those are no longer alive;
The graves hide them
mound,
From former brewers
The weeds are now growing.

Once the king was traveling through the fields,
Where the red heather bloomed,
Birds were screaming everywhere
Clouds of bees buzzed.
The king was angry and gloomy,
He thought, bowing his brow:
"I reign over the land where the heather
But there is no beer for me."

At that time his vassals
Driving through the fields,
Spotted under a rock
Two little people.
They grabbed them, but not a word
Not a single one spoke
It was two Picts:
Father and young son.

Sitting in a high saddle,
The king looked at them.
They looked too -
There is melancholy and pain in the eyes.
Putting them over a cliff,
He told them: “This is my vow:
I give you life if I have beer
You will reveal the secret."

And, looking up and down,
A son and his father stood:
There is blooming heather around,
There's thunder below the ocean.
And then the father said,
Not a voice - a sharp screech:
"I'll tell you in private,
Otherwise there will be a risk.

I'm an old man, and life is sweet to me,
But honor is of no use."
He whispered barely audibly:
"I would sell you a secret."
And his voice is sparrow-like
It was sharp and dry:
"I would sell the secret to you,
Yes, my son will not tolerate it.

For young people, life is a toy,
They have no fear of death,
And I'm afraid to sell my honor
In front of my son's eyes.
Let the servants tie him up
And they will be thrown into the depths of the waters,
Then I will say, even with an oath
The people tied me up."

And immediately with belts
The young son was tied up
And they lifted him into the air,
And they threw it into the depths of the abyss.
And the sea swallowed
His dying cry
And one stands above the abyss
The last Pict is an old man.

"I told you the truth,
My son was dangerous to me:
After all, youth is unreliable,
Not knowing gray hairs.
Now the torture is in vain,
And the sword and the heat of fire, -
The secret of the drink will die
Here in my heart."

Author - Milendia_Solomarina. This is a quote from this post

"Heather honey"

In fact, having visited Scotland, I was pleasantly surprised that it has not been forgotten, thank God, it is still cooked in different ways. Here, for example, is the recipe:

For “Heather Honey” you will need: 20 g flowers, 500 g sugar, 1 liter of water.

Pour boiling water over the flowers, leave for a day, strain, add sugar, bring to a boil and pour into glass jars.

Drinks from VERESK:

1) Boil 5 g of dried flowers in 1 liter of water for 3 minutes, discard the grass, add 80 g of honey, stir.

2) 40 ml heather syrup, 20 g currant leaf, 300 ml water. Boil currant leaves for 7 minutes, strain, then add syrup. It's best to drink chilled.

(To illustrate this article, the works of artists William Didier-Pouget, Gaston Vincent Anglade and Rex Preston were used; for more information about the artists in the Pro-Art community, see http://www.liveinternet.ru/communit...5/post189898062)

Heather is, first of all, a magnificent honey plant with a pleasant smell; it grows in the tundra, pine forests, peat bogs, burnt areas, and sands. As a rule, this honey plant is found in Ukraine, Western European countries, Siberia, the European part of Russia, the Azores and Asia Minor, and even in the north and west of Africa. However, the largest moorlands (which are huge thickets formed with other specific species of the genus Erica) are found in Scotland. Heather fields there account for approximately 75% of heathland worldwide.

Some people like the taste of heather honey, others reject its unusual bitterness. However, true connoisseurs in the UK value this honey so highly that it has been given the name “honey Rolls-Royce”.

An indescribable aroma is the first thing that attracts you to heather honey. At the same time, its taste is tart and even slightly bitter. A fairly strong aftertaste remains after consumption. The color of heather honey can be dark yellow to yellow-red, and upon crystallization it acquires a reddish-brown hue. Some even compare heather honey to toffee in terms of its richness of taste. The taste of this honey becomes stronger and more expressive during long-term storage.

Heather honey contains a large amount of protein substances (about 2%), which is also its difference. This ensures that during long-term storage it does not crystallize, but takes on a jelly-like form. However, when stirred, honey again acquires a liquid appearance, but over time it thickens again.

“Heather Honey” (translation by Valery Rastorguev - naturally it is impossible to outdo the melodiousness of the narration of either Stevenson or Marshak - somehow it turned out clumsily, so I will only give an excerpt, but the guy tried :-).

In Scotland, honey heather grew on the slopes of the mountains.

And every resident firmly believed that he gave them strength.

When the precious drink was more life-giving than wine

They cooked, knowing the price, and the whole country rejoiced.

But then one day it happened, the King decided to find out the secret,

He went to war, not knowing mercy, there is no mercy for the mead makers.

He destroyed a small people to the roots without regret.

And the heather is already blooming, blood-red like a sign.

And he is filled with strength, ready to shed living nectar.

But only corpses and graves, in almost every one there is a mead maker.

I am old and let the fragrant honey from the Heather die with me, forever and ever, melted.

Copyright: Valery Rastorguev, 2012.

During the “Scottization” of Scotland, the Dalriada region was cleared from the Picts, but the tradition of making heather ale continued to live, especially in the Highlands of Scotland. By the 12th century, the lands of the Picts and Dalriada united and the country of Scotland appeared, the Gaels called it “Alba”, and heather ale became a common drink among the clans.

Leann fraoch(pronounced "lyan fray oogh" with a soft "oogh") means fraoch beer in Gaelic (the language of the Scottish Celts). Bell heather plant, also called Bonnie bells (Erica tetralix, Marsh Heather and E. cinerea), has bell-shaped flowers ranging from white to purple in color and blooms from April to June. The Ling heather or Broom heather plant (Calluna vulgaris) has small, bud-like flowers that come in white, red or purple and bloom from August to September.

For brewing purposes, only the top five centimeters of the plant is used within 36 hours of harvest or must be stored below 38 degrees F (3 degrees C), due to the fact that it loses its valuable aroma. Moss (fog) grows on a woody stem inside the heather plant, rather than near the flowers, and contains wild yeast. Fog has some narcotic properties that have been removed from commercial prescriptions. The moss grows deep in the stems, but it floats in the air when the flowers are collected. It is a light white powder that can be easily removed by rinsing the plants in cold water. Heather ale is without doubt Scotland's oldest brewing heritage. The drink was prepared as follows:

First, a mash was made from Scottish ale malt, the wort was brewed with flowering heather tops, then the surface was covered with fresh heather flowers, left to cool and fermented for 12 days until the heather turned black. They drank ale directly from a container called a cran (barrel), in which a hole was made for a tap a quarter of the way up. This amber, lightly carbonated ale with a mild bitterness, strong oily body and wine-like quality was called Scottish Burgundy by the French and Scottish Malvasia by the English during the Auld Alliance in the 18th century.

Here is a real commercial recipe for making heather ale from Glenbrew, BruceWilliams, 736 DumbartonRd., GlasgowG116RD:

HEATHER ALE

Ingredients for 5 gallons (20 liters)

6 2/3 pounds (3 kilograms) ground Scottish ale malt, or 6 pounds (2.7 kilograms) American malted two-row barley and 10.5 ounces (300 grams) amber malt (crystal or Cara-type)

12 2/3 cups (3 quarts) lightly pressed heather flower tops

3/10 ounce (8 grams) Irish moss (10 minutes)

2 3/5 gallons (10 liters) soft water Lager yeast

1/2 to 3/4 cup corn sugar (for carbonation)

Original density: 1.048 Final density: 1.011

Mash the malt at 153 degrees F (67 degrees C) for 90 minutes. Rinse to collect 5.25 gallons (20 liters). Add about half a gallon (2 liters) of lightly pressed heather tops and simmer over high heat for 90 minutes.

Pass the hot wort through a sieve filled with 2 cups (0.5 liters) of heather tops into the fermentation tank. Let cool and ferment at 61 degrees F (16 degrees C) for seven to 10 days. I recommend using lager yeast. I originally used the yeast for Scotch ale, but over the years of cold, slow fermentation, a strain with a bias towards bottom fermentation has developed. When the gravity reaches 1.015, usually on the fifth day, take 1/2 gallon (2 liters) of ale, add 2 cups (1/2 liter) heather flowers and heat to 158 degrees F (70 degrees C). Cover and leave to simmer for 15 minutes, then return to the fermenter.

And finally, the text of Stevenson's original ballad with voiceover in the video. And also (by the way) about how useful it is to be able to read works in the original - in the English edition of the Ballad, Stevenson himself mentioned that Picts "little people"(English dwarfish folk) were in fact not destroyed, but assimilated by the Scots in the 9th-10th centuries.

Heather Ale: A Galloway Legend by Robert Louis Stevenson 1880 From the bonny bells of heather, They brewed a drink long syne, Was sweeter far than honey, Was stronger far than wine. They brewed it and they drank it, And lay in blessed swound, For days and days together, In their dwellings underground. There's a rose a King in Scotland, A fell man to his foes, He smote the Picts in battle, He hunted them like roes. Over miles of the red mountain He hunted as they fled, And strewed the dwarfish bodies Of the dying and the dead. Summer came in the country, Red was the heather bell, But the manner of the brewing, Was no one alive to tell. In graves that were like children"s On many a mountain's head, The Brewsters of the Heather Lay numbered with the dead. The king in the red moorland. Rode on a summer's day; And the bees hummed and the curlews Cried beside the way. The King rode and was angry, Black was his brow and pale, To rule in a land of heather, And lack the Heather Ale. Never a word they spoke: A son and his aged father - Last of the dwarfish folk. The king sat high on his charger, He looked down on the little men; And the dwarfish and swarthy couple Looked at the king again. Down by the shore he had them: And there on the giddy brink - "I will give thee life ye vermin, For the secret of the drink." There stood the son and father And they looked high and low; The heather was red around them, The sea rumbled below. And up spoke the father, Shrill was his voice to hear: "I have a word in private, A word for the royal ear. "Life is dear to the aged, And honor a little thing; I would gladly sell the secret", Quoth the Pict to the King. His voice was small as a sparrow"s, And shrill and wonderful clear: "I would gladly sell my secret, Only my son I fear. "For life is a little matter, And death is naught to the young; And I dare not sell my honor, Under the eye of my son. Take him, O king, and bind him, And cast him far in the deep; And it's I will tell the secret That I have sworn to keep." Neck and heels in a thong, And a lad took him and swung him, And flung him far and strong And the sea swallowed his body, Like that of a child of ten; And there on the cliff stood the father, Last of the dwarfish men. "True was the word I told you: Only my son I feared; For I doubt the sapling courage, That goes without the bear. But now in vain is the torture, Fire shall not avail: Here dies in my bosom "The secret of the Heather Ale." Translation by S. Marshak (1941)

A drink from the heather Forgotten a long time ago. And he was sweeter than honey, Drunker than wine.

They cooked it in cauldrons and drank it with the whole family, Little mead makers In caves underground.

The Scottish king came, Merciless to his enemies, He drove the poor Picts To the rocky shores.

On the heather field, on the battlefield, lay alive on the dead, and dead on the living.

Summer has come in the country, The heather is blooming again, But there is no one to prepare Heather honey.

In their cramped graves, in the mountains of their native land, the little honey makers found shelter for themselves.

The king rides along the slope Above the sea on a horse, And seagulls soar nearby With the road on a par.

The king looks gloomily: “Again in my land the honey heather is blooming, But we don’t drink honey!”

But his vassals noticed two of the last mead makers left alive.

They came out from under the stone, squinting into the white light, - an old hunchbacked dwarf and a boy of fifteen.

They were brought to the steep seashore for interrogation, but not one of the prisoners uttered a word.

The Scottish king sat motionless in the saddle. And the little people stood on the ground.

The king angrily said: “Torture awaits both, If you don’t tell me, devils, How you prepared the honey!”

The son and father were silent, standing at the edge of the cliff. The heather rang above them, the waves rolled into the sea.

Old age is afraid of death. I will buy life with treason, I will give away a cherished secret!" - The dwarf told the king.

The boy doesn’t care about life, He doesn’t care about death... I’ll be ashamed to sell my conscience in front of him.

Let him be tied tightly and thrown into the abyss of water - And I will teach the Scots how to prepare ancient honey!..”

A strong Scottish warrior tied the boy tightly and threw him into the open sea.

From the coastal cliffs.

From the cliff the old father:

The waves closed over him. The last cry died away... And the echo answered it

From the cliff the old father:

“I told the truth, Scots, I expected trouble from my son.

I didn’t believe in the resilience of young people who don’t shave their beards.

But I'm not afraid of the fire. Let him die with me

My holy secret - My heather honey!

By the way, the very first translation into Russian of this ballad was made by Nikolai Chukovsky in 1939, but in comparison with Marshakovsky, who was loved since childhood, both the rhythm and style, in my opinion, are greatly inferior, judge for yourself, here is the full text:

Translation by N. Chukovsky: Heather beer

(Scottish legend)

They tore the hard red heather And they cooked it Beer is stronger than the strongest wines, Sweeter than honey itself. They drank this beer, drank it - And for many days afterwards In the darkness of underground dwellings They fell asleep peacefully. But the Scottish king came, Merciless for enemies. He defeated the Picts And he drove them like goats. Along steep crimson slopes He flew after them And scattered it everywhere Piles of dwarf bodies. Summer again, heather again. All in bloom - but what can we do? Since the living don't know how Cook a sweet feast? In children's little graves On the hill and behind the hill Everyone who knew how to brew beer They sleep forever in a dead sleep. Here is the king of the crimson field Jumps into the stifling summer heat, He hears the buzz of well-fed bees, Birds singing above you. He is gloomy and dissatisfied - What could be sadder: Rule the heather kingdom, Why don't you drink sweet beer? The vassals gallop after him Through the heather. Suddenly they look: Behind a huge old stone Two dwarfs are sitting. So they are being chased and captured. Finally captured The last two dwarfs - A son and an old father with him. The king himself approaches them And looks at the kids On clumsy, blackish ones, Frail little people. He leads them straight to the sea On the rock and says: “I I will give you life for the secret, The Mystery of Sweet Drinks. Son and father stand and watch: The edge of heaven is wide, high, The heather is burning hot, The sea splashes at your feet. And the father suddenly asks "Allow me to quietly Whisper with the king! Life is worth a lot for an old man, Shame is worth nothing. I would tell you a secret, - Whispers quietly in silence: I would tell you a secret, Only my son is scared. Life is not worth much for the young, Death costs nothing. I would open everything, but I’m ashamed I'm ashamed of my son. You tie him tighter And throw it into the abyss of water! Then I will reveal the secret, What my poor family kept." So they tied up their son, I screwed my neck to my heels, And they threw him straight into the water, In the waves of the raging tide. And the sea devoured him, And stayed on the rock Only the old father is the last Pict dwarf throughout the land. "I was only afraid of my son, Because, you know yourself, It's hard to feel trust To the beardless brave men. Now prepare the torture, I won't give anything away. And he will die with me forever The Mystery of Sweet Drinks.

Video with the song version in English "Heather Ale: A Galloway Legend"

By Robert Louis Stevenson":

Original post and comments at

“The drink from the heather was forgotten a long time ago...” - this is the first line of the famous poem by R. Stevenson translated by S.Ya. Marshak. The history of making a drink from heather goes back more than 3000 years. Thus, on the island of Rham, archaeologists found shards of pottery dating back to the Neolithic period, with traces of a fermented drink containing heather. So we can say that a drink made from heather has as ancient a history as this amazing relict plant itself.

In cultural tradition, the first mention of heather honey dates back to the 5th century AD, when the Scots tribe came to the land of real Scotland and met its indigenous inhabitants - the Picts. Although in legends the Picts are often mentioned as a tribe of dwarf people living in caves, with some quirks and oddities akin to the elves, they were a fairly advanced people. He had his own king, he had his own fortresses. More than once he had to repel attacks from neighboring Anglo-Saxon tribes; The Picts could also resist the forces of the powerful Roman Empire. The Scot tribes, who invaded the land of the Picts, were slightly afraid of their opponents: it was believed that the latter had some mystical power transmitted to them from the mysterious potion they brewed - heather ale.

According to an ancient Scottish legend, this time the Picts were unlucky - they were completely defeated by the Scots, and the Scottish king decided to learn the secret of making a magic drink from the defeated people. The legend says that the king's demand to reveal the secret of heather honey was met with a decisive refusal, and the two surviving Picts were thrown from a cliff in the town of Mull of Galloway. However, historical facts indicate that this conquest (like many other conquests of those times) was, rather, not a bloody battle to the last man, but assimilation, the dissolution of the incoming tribe of warriors into the tribe of natives. Thus, many medieval British historians argued that the Scots “descended from the Picts and daughters of Hibernia,” i.e. Irish women. And because The Scots themselves were immigrants from Ireland, then we can conclude that the Picts actually merged with the arriving tribe. Some historians believe that this could have happened quite easily due to the fact that the Picts and Scots were related tribes. Proof of the latter statement is the fact that in Geoffrey's History of the Britons the Scots and Picts are constantly mentioned together as allies.

Therefore, although according to legend it is believed that the recipe for a magical drink from heather was lost back in those immemorial times, the facts force us to suspect the existing distortion of real events passed on from mouth to mouth in popular memory, and to conclude that, although all the ale recipe was lost, but this happened much later. Thus, in sources dating back to the 8th century AD, we find references to the Gallic Picts - the indigenous population of mountainous Scotland (the Gauls are the second (Roman) name of the Celtic tribe, and the Scots are one of the Celtic tribes), which once again tells us that the alliance between the Scots and Picts had become quite strong by this time. Mentions of heather ale as a favorite Welsh drink, found in many sources of that time, lead us to conclude that the Scots most likely adopted the tradition of making heather mead from the Picts.

According to some sources, the traditions of the ancient Pictish tribe were preserved until the 18th century - the time when Scotland was conquered by England, national traditions and customs were banned, and ale was officially allowed to be brewed only from hops and malt. Since that time, this wonderful drink, which restores strength well, seemed to be forgotten. However, here nature itself came to the aid of the ancient people. Gradually, the open confrontation between England and Scotland turned into a kind of partisan movement behind enemy lines, and England was powerless to impose its own order in the remote mountainous areas - the historical homeland of the Picts.

Many people believed that the secret of heather ale still lay somewhere in the Scottish outbacks. And finally, in 1986, an old family recipe for producing heather ale was found. The re-creator of an almost extinct tradition was Bruce Williams. So, in ancient times, to prepare heather ale, they used special ale malt, which was boiled together with the tops of heather branches to obtain a wort, to which fresh heather flowers were added, and then the whole mass was left to ferment for about 10-12 days. During the fermentation process, the heather gradually became darker, and the result was an intoxicating, oily drink of amber color, with a pleasant mild taste.

Reviving the tradition of heather brewing was truly a heroic effort. For a long time, Williams, searching privately, experimented with the time of collection and pre-treatment of plants in order to obtain a high-quality taste of the drink. It turned out that only the very tops of the heather are suitable for making ale for commercial purposes, because... Below, on tree-like stems, moss settles, which has a mild narcotic effect. The presence of this moss probably explains the effect that heather ale had on the Scots-Picts. As one legend says, at traditional evenings with songs and dances, when the Scots gathered around the fire, those who tried this drink experienced a feeling of mild euphoria, which allowed them to feel unity not only with the people around them, but also with all of nature.

Since 2000, heather ale has been produced on an industrial scale in Scotland at a brewery near Glasgow by Heather Ale Ltd. Thus, the tradition of making heather honey found a second life. And now, looking at the magnificent heather fields, delighting many people with their delicate flowers, we can safely say that one of the secrets of the heather - according to Scottish tradition, considered a repository of ancient secrets and the abode of mystical creatures - has been revealed.