Drake Brothers Mead

After touring the Middle West Spirits distillery a few months ago, co-owner Brady encouraged us to visit the Drake Brothers Meadery just down the street. It's the type of synergistic offering of goodwill to fellow businesses that makes me love the Short North community. That said, the suggestion was largely forgotten until I saw a recipe for mead in my homebrew book. Then, in the way that a mere speck of thought at the back of your mind heightens your awarness, I spotted a bottle of Brothers Drake mead on the shelf of specialty wines at Whole Foods.

Mead is essentially beer, with honey replacing the grain in fermentation. It has an appearance and mouthfeel like wine, with a similar alcohol content, and is often served chilled. The Bros have various flavors available in stores depending on the season and availability, but whenever I try something for the first time, I opt for the simplest rendition. So while tempted by the VO, infused with South African Rooibos tea, I opted for the traditional Honey Oak.

Mead, informs the Brothers Drake web site, was the drink of the gods. To grind a personal axe, and without passing judgement on the assuredly nice fellas at Bros Drake, I hate when something purports to be the drink/food/official car rental company/etc of the gods. Apart from the wine guzzling Dionysus, I've yet to see an official product endorsement by any polytheist deity, though it's rumored  Zeus was a fan of moonshine.

That little rant aside, I understand what they're getting at. Mead is ancient, and pops up regularly in Egyptian and Norse mythology. I seem to recall Beowulf drinking a bucket full of the stuff before he lopped off Grendel's beastly head. Drinks with history are inherently more interesting, and mead certainly provides that. But ultimately, the flavor has to match up to the pedigree.

I'd never had mead, but I really wanted to like this. Locally sourced ingredients? Check. Humble homebrewing beginning? Check. Handcrafted with TLC? Check.

But alas, this mead was not for me. Not bad, but weird. Their website notes mead's complexity, and it's true that every sip I took provided something different. It had a pleasant custardy feel and a not overbearing kiss of oak, but there was also a weird sweet, spicy fattiness like salami and a very assertive thyme note that only gets stronger  the more you drink. It's certainly an interesting alternative to white wine, but then I'm not a huge fan of that either.

I would like to try one of the Bros' other offerings; melomels (with added fruit), metheglins (with spice/herbs) or cysers (with apple cider/juice). Unfortunately, at $23 a bottle, it's a bit pricey to experiment with--not that I'm ever against parting cash for quality. Perhaps I'll have to pop by the meadery on 5th Avenue and try a glass of the intriguing sounding Apple Pie, or the hopped version of their original. There are also a handful of bars around town that have the mead on tap, usually for the price of a glass of wine (http://brothersdrake.com/wordpress/get-mead-3/).

Despite feeling slightly disappointed, I'm glad I tried Bros mead. Much like whisky, I'm sure there's a flavor out there that suits everyone, and if I have to try every flavor to find it, by the Gods, that's a sacrifice I'm ready to make.