I have made a mead

I started with a pound of wildflower honey because it was the cheap bag at the store, and I want to be honest about my motives. The recipe is simple enough to describe to a stranger: honey, water, yeast, and then the part where you do nothing for two weeks while a plastic airlock does the only interesting work in the room.

One gallon, because that is what fits in the carboy I actually own, and because a gallon is small enough to finish. The gravity reading after pitching was 1.090, which put the theoretical finish near twelve percent. I wrote twelve percent on the label before I knew anything, which is the kind of confidence that fermentation rewards about a month later.

The first week smells like warm bread and honey and not much else. The second week is where the airlock stopped being a useful status indicator, because the yeast works under the surface and the surface is, correctly, bored. The third week is where I stopped checking the jug and started washing glasses.

It tastes like a mead should taste: honey first, a green-apple note underneath it that I did not plan and could not remove, and a finish dry enough to be interesting. The mistake I will make again is using too much water. The next batch gets less.

October 4, 2026

Pitched the yeast tonight. One packet of dried baker's yeast, a tablespoon of honey out of the bag, and warm water in the corner of the sink, which is apparently where the yeast goes now.

Gravity reading after pitching was 1.090, which the calculator says lands me near twelve percent. I wrote twelve on the label before I had any evidence for it. The label is now the most confident thing in the kitchen.

The carboy is a plastic one and the airlock is a plastic one and I paid for both, so the standard of success in this kitchen is currently no visible leaks.