Contrary to the very popular golden shade, honey comes in a spectrum of colors. Pale yellow, golden amber, deep orange, but once in a while, in a narrow band of the American Southeast, a jar emerges that defies everything we know. Not gold. Not amber. It’s not even brown. It is purple honey, a rare and mysterious product that has puzzled beekeepers and scientists for generations.
I have worked hives for decades, and I have seen thousands of combs pulled across dozens of nectar flows. The first time I saw purple honey, I thought there was something wrong with it. It looked like grape syrup. Almost iridescent, with a fragrance unlike anything else. Since I have seen this quite closely, here’s what we know and what we don’t know about purple honey.
Where can you find purple honey?
Reports of purple honey almost always trace back to the Carolinas, specifically around the Sandhills and coastal plains of North Carolina and parts of South Carolina. Beekeepers working near Fort Bragg and the surrounding counties are the ones who most often find it in their supers.
The rarity is part of its mystique. You can run 50 colonies in the same region, and maybe one hive, just one, will yield a batch of purple honey. Even more baffling, a neighboring hive on the same stand may produce standard amber honey while the one next to it glows violet.
What does purple honey taste like
This can be a bit tricky. When asked, some users compare it to grape juice or berry jam, but that’s too simple. It is much more sweet, smoother, and it lingers on the tongue with a floral finish.
The color might make it look super fruity, but the taste, in reality, is more layered. Light, delicate, with a texture that seems thinner than clover honey yet not watery. In blind tastings, people almost always pick it as distinct from any other varietal.
Theories behind its origin
Beekeepers and researchers have debated the cause of purple honey for decades. None of the explanations fully satisfies, but each gives us pieces of the puzzle:
- Nectar source hypothesis: Some swear bees are foraging on plants like kudzu, sourwood, or titi. Kudzu is abundant in the Southeast and does produce nectar, but its honey is typically dark, not purple. Sourwood is prized Southern honey, pale and aromatic, though experts suggested that when its nectar interacts with high-aluminium soils, it might trigger the purple coloration. Titi is another candidate, with its two flower types, black titi, favored by bees, and white titi, sometimes linked to brood issues.
- Soil chemistry hypothesis: The Carolinas’ sandy soils often hold elevated mineral levels. Aluminum in particular has been flagged as a possible factor. If nectar rich in certain compounds meets the acidic enzymes in a bee’s crop (its honey stomach), a color shift might occur before the nectar even makes it into the comb.
- Fruit foraging hypothesis: Many locals believe bees gorge on blueberries, huckleberries, or elderberries. The logic is simple. Purple fruit, purple honey. But bees don’t typically puncture fruit skins. They prefer nectar and pollen from blossoms, not the juice from berries. Still, incidental contact with broken fruit in peak season may not be impossible.
Purple honey
Why is it so rare?
If there were a single cause behind purple honey, we’d see it every season under predictable conditions. Instead, it appears sporadically, almost like a glitch in the system. This suggests multiple narrow factors must align: specific forage sources blooming at the right time, bees collecting just the right mix of nectars, and soil chemistry skewing in a certain direction.
Add to that the biology of the colony itself. Different bee species, foraging patterns, and even microbial activity in the hive. And you start to see why purple honey resists simple categorization.
What it means for beekeepers
When purple honey appears, it can throw a beekeeper off balance. The first concern is always brood health. If unusual nectar sources like white titi are in play, the colony may struggle with larval development.
On the other hand, most purple honey extractions yield perfectly safe, even exquisite, table honey.
For beekeepers, the discovery is both a risk and a reward. You don’t plan for it. You don’t manage it. You simply find it. And it turns into a local treasure that collectors and honey connoisseurs will pay a premium to taste. A perfect gift for bee lovers.
Closing thoughts
I have pulled thousands of frames in my life. But never did I stumble on purple honey. Those who have are lucky. Purple honey is more than a curiosity. It is proof that beekeeping is never entirely predictable. Even the most experienced among us can still be surprised.
For more such fascinating stories from the world of bees, consider following my full blog.
