327 West Nine Mile Road
Ferndale
248-439-5000
OWNER: Ken Schramm
MAZER: Ken Schramm
FLAGSHIP MEADS: the Statement, made with Traverse City–grown balaton cherries; Heart of Darkness, made from Schraammbeek cherries from Europe, raspberries, and currants; a variety of seasonal creations
Mead.
Say the word, and visions of pillaging Vikings might pop into your head. Or maybe you associate mead with a Renaissance fair where it’s sold alongside deep-fried turkey legs. But you should not let its association with ill-tempered Norsemen or jugglers in foolscaps and nylon tights influence you. Mead is the oldest fermented drink in the world, and it deserves the same respect we give craft beer because it too is an artisan beverage.
For better or worse, mead is associated with medieval times, mostly because it was then the alcoholic beverage of choice since its raw materials—water, honey, and wild yeast—were readily available in northern Europe. Some people even posit that the word honeymoon has its etymological roots in mead. They claim that as part of a bride’s dowry, the groom was given enough mead to last through a full cycle of the moon. Sounds reasonable, but it may be the medieval version of an urban legend.
Even though you’ve probably heard of mead, you might not be sure what it is. When mead is fermented with fruit, it is similar to wine. When it’s fermented with hops and carbonated, mead resembles beer. Unfortunately, many craft beer enthusiasts tend to stay away from mead. Maybe they look askance at it because it looks and pours like wine. Maybe they avoid it because they’re afraid it’ll be sweet like a dessert wine. Maybe they steer clear of it because, well, in its modern versions—particularly those made with fruit and served in elegant bottles—mead might appear to be a chick drink. Okay, mead may not seem the manliest choice when you’re watching mixed martial arts with your buddies, but hey, if it was good enough for Vikings …
Ken Schramm, owner of Schramm’s Mead in Ferndale.
For centuries debate has raged among people with too much time on their hands: is mead beer or wine? Mead’s similarities to beer are obvious: it’s boiled and fermented with yeast. It can be made with adjuncts to enhance its flavor and its often carbonated. But the similarity to wine is also obvious: its taste, aroma, and mouth feel are more wine-like.
Mead, however, should not have to be categorized; it deserves to stand on its own.
Just as Michigan’s brewers have rediscovered beer’s artisanal roots, taking that beverage to new heights, Michigan’s mazers (the term for people who make mead) are doing the same for mead.
Nonetheless, even compared to the relatively small market for craft beer, the market for mead is tiny. “We like to say that if you are a big name in the mead world, you are a big fish in a Dixie cup,” says Ken Schramm, owner of Schramm’s Mead in Ferndale.
Still, Michigan has three big fish in that Dixie cup. In 2014 three local producers—Kuhnhenn Brewing Company, Schramm’s Mead, and B. Nektar—produced twenty-seven of the top fifty meads in the world as rated by the website Ratebeer.com.7 All three of those producers are just north of Detroit and within a few miles of each other—as the bee flies.
Of those three, Schramm’s Mead is deemed the best among mead enthusiasts because its owner, Ken Schramm, is one of the county’s premiere mead makers. Schramm is author of The Compleat Meadmaker (2010), considered to be the bible of the craft. In addition, Schramm teaches mead making at the University of California–Davis, and has written several articles about mead making in Zymurgy magazine. For his work to promote and advance mead, Schramm was given the 2014 Governing Committee Recognition Award from the American Homebrewers Association.
Schramm is widely admired because, well, he makes some pretty mean mead. Here’s a taste of how his meads are rated by Ratebeer.com:
Schramm’s Ginger: 99
Schramm’s The Heart of Darkness: 100
Schramm’s The Statement—Reserve: 100
Schramm’s Cranberry: 100
Schramm’s Nutmeg: 100
Schramm’s Madeline: 100
Schramm’s Raspberry: 100
Schramm’s The Statement: 100
Schramm’s Blackberry: 99
Schramm’s The Rocket: 99
Schramm’s Apple: 100
Schramm’s Black Agnes: 100
Schramm’s Erik The Red: 99
Schramm’s Plum: 96.8
Yeah, that’s pretty good.
Schramm says there’s no secret to making good mead: use simple recipes, get really good ingredients, do your best to ensure quality every step of the way, and get out of the way.
Honey is, of course, the most critical ingredient, and Schramm works to get the best he can from beekeepers in Michigan, Florida, Washington, and Pennsylvania. The only honeys he uses from outside the country are Tasmanian leatherwood honey and Scottish heather honey. Just as different styles of malt impart different flavors to beer, different styles of honey—orange blossom, clover, alfalfa—lend special flavors and aromas to the mead.
And just as there are multiple styles of beer, there are many kinds of mead. Just as craft beer can go from the lightness of a kölsch to the chewy boldness of a bourbon-barrel aged Scotch ale or an imperial stout, mead can range from completely dry to dessert sweet and from uncarbonated to champagne-like.
Schramm prefers to make meads that are big, rich, and fruity. At St. Ambrose Meadery in Beulah, Kurt Jones is making mead with all kinds of berries. Vander Mill in Grand Rapids specializes in cyser, a mead made with apples. Arktos in Grand Rapids makes a mead with pumpkin, cinnamon, and ginger. Acoustic Draft Mead in Traverse City makes meads that are lightly carbonated and tend to be lower in alcohol content than most, making them drink more like beer.
Because not that many people make mead, the knowledge base isn’t as deep and there aren’t nearly as many recipes as there are for beer. Schramm says that forces the typical mead maker to do some experimentation and be more creative to extract the best flavors from fruits and spices and then establish rules for fermentation.
The best flavor combinations, Schramm believes, are ones that mingle spices or high acidity with the fruity, sweet characteristics from the honey. “We’re looking for a level of delicious that will make people push back in their seat,” he concludes.
Schramm began making mead in 1988. He was (and still is) a beer lover and home brewer. He got started making mead when he read the appendix to Charlie Papazian’s book The Complete Joy of Home Brewing. His first attempt to make mead was a raspberry barkshack ginger—straight from Papazian’s book—that was made with too much corn sugar and fermented way too long. “It was horrible.”
But Schramm was determined to improve. He contacted Bill Pfeiffer, a brewer and mead maker who lived in Wyandotte before his death in 2000. Pfeiffer had been named American Homebrewers Association mead maker of the year in 1985 and was one of the first five certified mead-tasting judges in the country. Pfeiffer was glad to take on a young apprentice, and Schramm has been busy as a … mazer ever since.