The Bible That Beat a Tornado

Today, the average American consumes nearly a pound and a half of me every year, in tea, on toast, and beyond. If I do say so myself, I am a timeless treasure. Literally—i never go bad. Samples nearly 3,000 years old found in the Egyptian pyramids are as edible as the day they were entombed. Through some combination of low water content, high ph, and the natural presence of hydrogen peroxide within me, I am highly antimicrobial and therefore impervious to spoiling. My antimicrobial nature also makes me an excellent salve for chronic wounds, keeping infection out while holding in the moisture that skin needs to heal.

Alas, my good health is not guaranteed. U.S. beekeepers lose about 40 percent of their hives annually to colony collapse disorder. The problem lies in the growth of industrial agriculture and pesticide use, as well as urban sprawl and changes in weather patterns, all of which reduce the number of flowers bees have to visit. If bees continue to die apace, almonds, apples, and peaches (along with any crop that relies on their pollination) will become scarcer and pricier. As will I.

Given that trend, it’s not surprising that I also am perhaps your supermarket’s most frequently adulterated food, laced with cheap sugar syrup or corn syrup to stretch the supply. In 2010, the largest food fraud in American history was busted when authorities discovered $80 million in smuggled, tainted Chinese honey. That is among the reasons I hope you buy domestic honey, especially from local beekeepers.

I’d also appreciate your letting your own garden grow just a little wild and holding off from frequent mowing and herbicide spray. My future depends on all of us fostering spring and summer’s wild blossoms, thus helping the bees, who give so much—to you, to me—without ever asking for anything in return.

Kate Lowenstein is the editor-in-chief of Vice’s health website, Tonic; Daniel Gritzer is the culinary director of the cooking site Serious Eats.