Recipe for dry pollen substitute

The addition of vitamin C is optional, but many beekeepers believe it encourages the bees to consume the pollen substitute. The mix can be put in an open feeder (such as a birdfeeder) in early spring when the bees are flying but not much is in bloom.

Dry pollen substitute

Serves Many
Prep time 15 minutes
Allergy Milk, Soy
Dietary Gluten Free, Vegetarian
Meal type Side Dish, Snack
Misc Pre-preparable
Occasion Spring, Winter
For beekeepers who prefer to feed dry pollen substitute instead of patties.

Ingredients

  • 3 parts soy flour
  • 1 part brewer's yeast
  • 1 part dry milk (instant or non-instant baker's milk)
  • 1 teaspoon vitamin C (for every 6 cups of mixture)

Note

It is best to measure these ingredients by weight instead of volume. For example, if you use three pounds of soy, use one pound of yeast and one pound of dry milk.

Directions

Step 1
Put the the first three ingredients in a bowl.
Step 2
Take some vitamin C tablets and crush into a powder.
Step 3
Add one teaspoon of crushed vitamin C for every six cups of mix.
Step 4
Thoroughly combine the ingredients.
Step 5
In the winter, the dry mix can sprinkled on the top bars or put in a feeder above the brood box. In the early spring, the mix can be placed in a bird feeder near the hive.

How to make fondant from table sugar

Making fondant is much like making hard candy. You boil the sugar in as little water as possible and keep a close watch on your candy thermometer. But unlike hard candy, you take the syrup off the heat when it reaches 234°F and then you knead it like bread.

If you are new to this, the first thing to do is go back to my previous posts and read the general guidelines for cooking with sugar. First read “How to make hard candy from table sugar.” For information on candy stages, calibrating your thermometer, and cooking at high elevations, see “Notes on cooking sugar syrup.”

Fondant is softer than hard candy. In fact, it is squeezable and pliable like dough. Many beekeepers believe that fondant is easier for the bees to eat than hard candy. Although I personally do not share that opinion, I do believe it is important for the beekeeper to what he or she feels is best. That said, fondant is more work than hard candy, which is more work than granulated sugar out of the bag. I had a much different opinion of the amount of work when I had fourteen hives than when I had one—and this may happen to you too.

After you’ve boiled your syrup to 234°, you pull the pot off the stove and cool it down to about 200°F. At this point you can try to knead it with gloved hands (maybe—it is still egregiously hot). Better yet, pour it into a stand mixer and beat the syrup slowly with a paddle attachment. Continue beating the mixture until it turns white and has a smooth and silky texture. Divide it into molds and you are done. Once it cools, wrap it and store it in a cool place.

Fondant

Serves 4-5 hives
Prep time 10 minutes
Cook time 1 hour
Total time 1 hour, 10 minutes
Dietary Gluten Free, Vegan
Meal type Main Dish
Misc Freezable, Pre-preparable, Serve at Hive Temperature
Occasion Winter
Fondant can be kept on hand and slipped quickly into a hive that is low on stores.

Ingredients

  • 10 lb granulated sugar
  • 1 quart water
  • 1 tablespoon vinegar or lemon juice
  • 5-8 drops essential oil (optional)

Note

If you are extremely picky, you can wipe down the inside of the pot with a wet pastry brush while the mixture comes to a boil. This will keep any errant sugar crystals from forming more crystals as the mixture cools. I don't do this because the bees don't care.

Before you begin to knead the fondant you can add a few drops of essential oil, if desired. I like to add anise oil because the bees seem to find the food faster. You can also use tea tree, spearmint, lemongrass, peppermint, or wintergreen.

Directions

Step 1
Prepare molds in advance. You can use paper plates, pie pans, or take-out boxes. Spray lightly with oil and place on a flat, heat-proof surface.
Step 2
Measure the water and the vinegar (or lemon juice) into a large pot and bring to a slow simmer.
Step 3
Pour in the sugar, stirring until it dissolves completely. Keep stirring until you feel no "grits" in the water. If the sugar won't dissolve add more water, little by little, until all the crystals disappear.
Step 4
Once the sugar is completely dissolved, you can gently turn up the heat to medium high and stop stirring. Insert your candy thermometer. (Because the crystals are gone, there is nothing to settle on the bottom and burn; the sugar is in solution.)
Step 5
Boil the mixture until the thermometer reads 234 degrees F, then remove the pot from the heat. If you wish, you can test the candy at this point. Place a drop of syrup into a glass of cool water. Reach in and get the drop. The drop of candy should flatten and run down between your fingers.
Step 6
Set the pot aside to cool to about 200 degrees F. You can set the pot in a sink of ice water to speed up the process, but it is not necessary.
Step 7
When the fondant reaches about 200 degrees F you may add a few drops of essential oils, if desired.
Step 8
Pour the fondant into a stand mixer with a paddle attachment and slowly beat until the mixture turns light-colored and smooth. Alternatively, you may knead the fondant with your hands, but be careful of the heat.
Step 9
Divide the mixture into 8 or 10 paper plates and then allow it to cool completely.
Step 10
Once cool, wrap the fondant in plastic wrap or wax paper. You can store the fondant for several weeks in a cool place, or for long periods in the freezer.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

My bees have lost their sweet little minds

This morning, after a week of advising everyone else to check on their bees, I decided I’d better do the same. I figured there would be no excuse if everything went wrong. I couldn’t say no one told me.

So I made some sugar trays just in case and starting doing the rounds. The top-bar hive was first and it seemed normal except lots of bees flew out when I opened it up. This surprised me, so I looked at the thermometer. Hmm. Forty degrees F and raining.

Now forty isn’t freezing but it’s not exactly balmy, either. I gave them some sugar and proceeded up the hill. When I got about ten feet from the first Langstroth I heard a sound that reminded me of a generator in the distance. I thought about it for a moment and decided it was a generator in the distance because this is January, and in January I have to lean close to the hives and tap to hear anything at all.

But the closer I went, the confused-er I became. I have never heard bees make that kind of racket at this time of year. The entire hive seemed to vibrate and a vast number of dead bees littered the landing board that I had cleared only two days ago. I removed the lid and figured I would lift the edge of the quilt and slide in the sugar tray, just like always.

The instant I lifted the quilt a quarter-inch, they started foaming out like soap bubbles from an overflowing washing machine. I had opened the dike and they spilled forth. They oozed over the top and down the sides. Three stories down bees squeezed out of the hive opening and melted over the landing board. The dog left.

Just under the quilts I keep a three-inch feeder rim just in case I need room for feed or pollen patties or grease patties . . . whatever. This feeder space was absolutely full of bees end to end, side to side, and top to bottom.

I replaced the quilt without putting in the sugar tray because I needed a moment to think. This maneuver immediately squeezed about fifty bees, so I opened it up again only to have all the spilling, oozing, and flowing start all over again. Ultimately, I tried to slide the sugar tray under them, but there were so many bees in there it sort of floated like a rowboat on a lake while the bees moved around under it.

All this was just the beginning: every subsequent hive was exactly the same and, honestly, I don’t understand. In previous years, my triple deeps have done the best which is why they are all triples this year. They had tons of honey going into winter and I didn’t think I would need to feed. But like many other parts of the country, we’ve had a warmish winter and the bees are burning through their stores in record time.

Still, how will I keep these huge colonies fed until spring? It is so early in the year that I will need a dump truck full of sugar to keep them going. What I really need is a strategy . . .

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

Sugar slurry: another feeding option

While many of us are debating the virtues of sugar cakes vs. granulated sugar for winter feeding, others avoid the controversy by using a sugar slurry. The slurry is partway between dry sugar and liquid sugar, at a point where the sugar is wet but doesn’t actually dissolve. Technically, a slurry is a thick suspension of solids in a liquid, but this is very close in appearance and texture to a true slurry. It is generally fed in a baggie feeder and is made as follows.

You take a baggie—say a gallon size—and measure into it 9 parts of sugar and 1 part of water by either weight or volume. You close up the bag and knead the mixture with your hands until it is thoroughly combined. You place the bag on the top bars inside an eke or spacer rim, then you slit the bag with a knife. The moisture content is almost ideal for winter feed. It is not so dry that it needs additional moisture, and it is not so wet that the bees refuse to eat it.

The 9:1 proportion yields a solution with roughly 10% water. This is drier than honey but wetter than fondant. Some beekeepers like to get closer to 12% water, which can be achieved by measuring 8 parts of sugar to 1.1 parts water.

In prior years I have made slurries using granulated sugar, pollen substitute, a few drops of essential oil, and just enough water to make it muddy but not wet—about the consistency of thick brownie batter. I use this instead of pollen patties in the spring because it is less likely to dry out and become hard and unpalatable.

One problem I have noticed with slurries is that sometimes the sugar dries out along the slit in the baggie, forming a crust that seals the bag. This can be remedied by cutting an opening about one ¼-inch wide instead of making just a slit. I use a utility knife to remove a rectangular piece of plastic about 4 inches long and ¼-inch wide diagonally across the center of the bag. This makes a feeding trough for the bees.

Another problem with slurries—as with anything fed in a baggie—is that the bees have to eat from the top of the bag instead of from the bottom. This requires them to break cluster and so is most effective on those days when the temperature in the hive is warm enough to allow them to crawl to the top of the bag. However, baggies have the advantage of being thin enough that the entire contents are readily warmed by the heat rising from the cluster.

Slurry bags are easier to prepare than sugar cakes but more work than dry feeding. I don’t advocate one over the other but, if you are anything like I am, you like options. Sometimes a particular hive responds better to one method than another, and slurries offer you another “try-it” for a problem hive.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

Must I feed a new package of bees?

This is a new beekeeper question—and a very good one. If you install your bees on drawn comb with a good supply of honey, you probably don’t need to feed. But if you are installing that package on fresh-from-the-box woodenware, read on.

Picture this. You and your many sisters are scooped up by a gigantic, flightless, hairy malcontent and put into a wooden crate with a nasty stepmother who is locked in a cage next to you. Her perfume reeks. Your box is shipped halfway across the country in the back of a giant truck with hundreds of other such receptacles. You’re given some watery syrup to keep you alive. You sip this half-heartedly and even share it with the nasty stepmother as you and yours are jostled around in the airless, dark, smelly container. It’s hard to hang on as you sway this way and that. Some of you fall off and die.

Eventually, after changing vehicles a few times, you are sprayed with cold syrup (that’s right, you get sprayed with your dinner) and then dumped in a large two-story box with wooden frames hanging like empty picture frames on parallel clotheslines. What gives?

Over the next few days you become accustomed to your nasty stepmother who no longer seems so nasty. In fact, she’s really not bad at all . . . even her perfume is becoming tolerable. You groom her, feed her, and keep her warm as best you can through the odd screened cage. Then one day the hairy malcontent throws off your roof, lets in the cold air, and releases your stepmother. It’s all so hard to comprehend.

Now pay close attention. The days are balmy, plants are growing, and you are working your asses off trying to build a nursery, bring in supplies, feed the family, take care of the babies, and get ready for the coming winter. But there isn’t enough food for everyone. Some family members are hunting all day long, bringing home everything they can find, but it’s not enough. It’s not sufficient for a family that started out with nothing in the pantry, especially when they first had to build the pantry. Some of your siblings are exhausted from overwork; the weakest ones are falling dead. The family is shrinking. Step mom is pregnant, but there’s not enough food to raise all the kids. Things are looking bleak. What you really need is a food bank.

Then one day the hairy malcontent returns, more malcontent than ever because his high-priced box of creatures is disappearing. He has brought a companion—also hairy but definitely quicker on the uptake—who installs a temporary food bank just above the nursery. You and your siblings give thanks—with this little boost to your diet you will be able to “catch up.” You will be able to get that nursery completed, the furniture installed, the kids fed . . . and maybe convince step mom to raise some sons. And if you’re lucky, you will be able to fill the pantry before winter.

So to all you first-time beekeepers out there, the short answer is “yes”—feed that new package of bees. You will be glad you did.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite.com

Creatures in a box. This could be you! Flickr photo by Joe DeLuca.
Creatures in a box. This could be you! Flickr photo by Joe DeLuca.