This Saturday’s victim was the bee man.

I can’t just make a normal trip to the market without finding someone to shake down and ask crucial questions like “where do your chickens live?”, “is your beef grassfed?”, “where do your lemons really come from?”, or “are the fish raised in a farm”

Usually, I get answers like, “how much?”, “yes, beef”, “Scotland”, or anything else that makes absolutely no sense in relation to the questions I asked.

You think that would stop me. Or at least slow me down.

I picture all the farmers in Germany passing around my photo with the caption: “Achtung!”

Well, this weekend I wanted to get the scoop on honey. So I approached the bee guy with his little stand and asked, “is your honey raw?”

Luckily, he spoke more English than I’m used to, and he was more than happy to discuss his honey. And I even learned a few things.

Did you know if you heat honey, it loses all its vitamins and nutrients? No more baking with honey for me. You can’t even put it in your tea!

I also picked up some bee pollen (hipster new superfood I guess). I asked him what was so good about it and he told me it has a lot of protein. I told him, “go no further, I’ll take it!”

I can usually eat anything, but I’m struggling with bee pollen. It tastes like the way fish food smells. It’s not pleasant. But I keep eating it, hoping I’ll suddenly like it.

So, just a normal girl here , and a weekend full of spoonfulls of honey and balls of bee pollen.