Got Mead? I’d Give an Eye for a Glass!

Mead is sort of the red-headed stepchild of the craft spirits industry. Shunned by the world of wine and not quite strong enough to contend with hard liquor, or even liqueurs (usually), mead has found a home in the welcoming arms of the craft beer industry.

Mead is, simplistically speaking, honey-wine. You may have read about it in famous epic poems, history books, fantasy tomes or Viking lore. Once upon a time, mighty warriors gathered in long halls, warmed by fire, eating great feasts of dead animals from the hunt, and drank mead from the horns of said dead animals while still covered in the blood of their enemies in what must be the single most metal mental picture you’ve had all day.

Now RI has its very own meadery. Greenwich Cove Meadery took me by surprise one day as I was out and about. I noticed a new tenant taking over the old bicycle shop just on the Coventry side of the Coventry/West Warwick border. When I saw the sign for a meadery, I made it a point to alter my plans and enter.

That’s where I met Bob.

Robert Greene might be one of the coolest and weirdest dudes I’ve ever met. The man has a laid-back intensity – excited mead-maker and chill hippie-dude mixed to produce just the right kind of weirdo. I liked him immediately.

Greenwich Cove lives between the red tape of alcohol production. You’ll not find massive tanks attached to intricate plumbing with long, snakelike bottling lines still dripping with sanitizing chemicals. The back room is lined with large glass carboys, each one fermenting a different breed of mead. Some are made with pumpkin, cranberry or even pineapple, which, Bob informed me, is actually the world’s largest berry. You learn something new every day.

Coming from a background of odd jobs, Bob had always been a fan of finely crafted fermented fluids. Since his younger years, his experience with traditional family recipes inspired him to one day seek out a niche of his own in the alcohol-producing world. As an avid fan of, among other things, Viking lore, Bob is prone to wax poetic about the beverage of his passion.

“This is what the Vikings would wage war for!” he declared while pumping a fist in the air. “This is what Odin sacrificed an eye for!” he proclaimed, posing mid-gesticulation in the manner of a mighty warrior.

I sampled some of Greenwich Cove’s mighty mead while Frank Zappa drifted through the air behind the tasting area, and Bob poured multiple samples of his fine fare.

I’ve often said that beer’s strength is its versatility. Beer can be made to nearly any taste one can imagine. Mead, as it turns out, is at least as versatile, if not more.

While I can’t claim to be the most cultured when it comes to my palate for mead, I’ve been around the block a few times. I’ve even made a bit of mead on my own now and then. So Bob’s samples really gave my taste buds a run for their money.

Some of his meads had a distinct brandy or whiskey-like flavor, with a definite alcohol bite that would satisfy those who seek a nice warming beverage on a cold winter night. Others were brightly sweet, with fruity notes. Strangely enough, the line he claimed was the “driest” turned out to be one of the more interestingly balanced in the mix. Of course, my favorite by far was the Golden Good Number One. Maybe it’s just because I have a soft spot for whiskey, and whiskey-like flavors, but it struck me as a nice, flavorful, versatile brew.

The Meadery is currently only in “soft open” status, but once they officially open, feel free to stop by and pick up a bottle of any of their amazing creations. Or sample several kinds, and savor the flavor to whatever wonderfully bizarre music is wafting through.