There’s no smell in the world like that of the orange blossom. In an age where concern over the loss of bees is front-of-mind, the tiny flower — and its colossal, otherworldly scent — is a reminder that the bees are still here.
A stroll amid a blooming grove is not only heady in heavenly aroma, it is alive with the sound of bees as their fuzzy bodies buzz, gentle and benign, amid the potent blooms.
The orange blossom is our state flower. It is responsible for a reasonable, if waning, slice of the state economy. According to Florida Agricultural Statistics, 1969 saw about 764,000 acres of citrus production; Florida Citrus Mutual’s 2017 numbers put that acreage at 437,00.
And even as I, for one, worry about the bees — and what my great grandchildren might put in their sangria — I step eagerly onto the figurative dais to celebrate National Orange Blossom Day (June 27).
Thing is, while the oranges are an undeniable treasure, the blossoms themselves have played a role in culinary delights for ages, in French and Middle Eastern cuisines, for example.
“Orange blossom, to me, is very bright with bitter undertones,” says Marie Mercado, co-owner of downtown’s little ice cream boutique, the Greenery Creamery. “I don’t know the science behind it, but when mixed with certain ingredients, it will hit your taste buds initially or at the very end. It’s like a secret weapon, a refreshing surprise after a mouthful of so many intense flavors.”
The Greenery Creamery’s orange blossom pistachio is a vegan offering, a delicate orange blossom and vanilla coconut ice cream with bits of pistachio nuts mixed in.
For dairy proponents, there’s the orange blossom ricotta.
“It’s inspired by Sicilian cannoli,” says Mercado. “It uses the elements from above but instead of coconut, I use cream and ricotta to create a really rich ice cream flavor.”
Most recently, Mercado created a special flavor for Bite (Be Inspired to Eat), which opened in May in downtown: balsamic strawberry and orange blossom vanilla cake.
“It’s a homemade strawberry puree, roasted down with honey and blended with a cinnamon-pear balsamic vinegar from The Ancient Olive in Winter Park…. As it churns, I throw in homemade orange blossom vanilla cake chunks.”
Of course, the bees’ fine work cannot be discounted, either.
Gene Huggins, 65, has been keeping bees since he was 16, and in 2009 founded Honey Bee Mine, which sells raw, unfiltered honey that comes straight from his hives in Oviedo’s Black Hammock.
I know this because last week I drove to a nondescript parking lot to exchange money for Huggins’ product. Gene forgot his Square, though, so I still owe him for the jalapeño peanut butter cream honey, which it turns out is made from wildflowers, not orange blossoms.
“These days most honey is wildflower honey,” he tells me. “That’s because the orange blossoms aren’t just fewer than they used to be, but they’re seasonal.” Back in the day, says Huggins, orange groves “were pretty much the whole of Florida until all the freezes and canker started killing the trees.”
Huggins sells orange blossom honey, the sweetest of his varieties, along with other wares, monthly at Baldwin Park’s First Friday Festival. You can also check out his products online.
Where else can you celebrate the noble orange blossom? Disney Springs has two venues we’ve ID’d.
Chef Art Smith’s Homecomin’ Kitchen drizzles hot orange blossom honey over his thighs — the poultry variety, that is — as part of his Thigh High Chicken Biscuits dish ($16; three biscuits topped with fried chicken thighs and bread and butter pickles). Over at the Polite Pig, they’ll cut you a slice of orange blossom pie ($7, think tart — like key lime, only with orange notes).
Over in the Hourglass District at Pizza Bruno, you can sample the sheep’s milk ricotta plate, drizzled with honey and studded with crunchy pistachios.
Chef/owner Bruno Zacchini’s Florida childhood, he says, was sweet with orange blossom honey.
“It was always in my pantry,” he says. “I would dump it on my Cheerios, and it was mandatory in our Christmas morning breakfast tea. I can’t say why that sticks with me, but it does!”
As for its use in the ricotta dish?
“The sweetness and floral notes help round out the creamy and unique flavor of sheep’s milk ricotta,” he explains. “With the addition of pistachios for crunch and flakes of Maldon salt, the dish relies on each component working with the next.”
For folks who prefer their honey adult-beverage style, there’s Hourglass Brewing in Longwood, where the “Two Million Bees and Some Hops” is a core beer.
Brewed in the tradition of a New England IPA, says co-head brewer Matthew Gemmell, “the idea was to take a popular beer style and put a Florida twist on it. We thought that the floral and citrus notes of orange blossom honey would give the beer roots in Florida while meshing well with the underlying beer style.”
Want more sweet with your hoppy treat? Hourglass is currently pouring a variation called “Four Million Bees and More Hops.”
“It’s made with twice the honey as the original, which puts it at over 1 pound of orange blossom honey per gallon.”
